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THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
^ • BY T H E ^
Cramer, AiKENS &
883.
RAMER, PrINTM^^^^^t
FEB 17 1883 '
%^ H.i:>^E-M^-
•'A'-.H;^i'«'
;^o^
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by the Bleyer Bros , in the
office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
TO THE PUBLIC,
In offering to the public this memorial record of the Newhall House fire,
the undersigned are actuated by a desire to place in the hands of those intei--
ested a correct account of an event that has passed into the history of Mil-
waukee as one of deepest sorrow. The awful spectacle, the hair-breadth
escapes and horrible deaths incident to the conflagration, were fully reported
by the press, but the developments necessary to correctly record the dire
event were so slow of evolution, and the press records covered so many
pages of newspapers that cannot be conveniently preserved, that the neces-
sity of this volume presented itself. No criminations are printed in its pages,
neither is the question of origin or the culpability of managers or suspected
incendiaries discussed, the province of the volume being only to record.
As a record, it is respectfully submitted.
JULIUS BLEYER,
HERMAN BLEYER.
Milwaukee, Wis., January, 1883.
\hi<3 -'-^ihfj
IS*
JjBupning of f^f Jlf\a^a\i I?ousp.
A SCENE OF HORROR,
(^HORTLY after four o'clock on the morning of the 10th day of
L) January, 1883, an alarm from Box No. 15 startled Milwaukee's
Fire Department and awoke many of her citizens to witness a lire
unequaled in the horror of its results by any in the history of the
city. Those who were acquainted with the location of the box
from which the alarm was sounded made all possible haste to reach
the scene, where confirmatory flashes of light were already visible,
and from whence came floating on the morning air a faint roaring
sound, intermingled with cries of terror. Others went to their win-
dows, and, looking for a moment at the first tongues of flame that
shot skyward, shiveringly retired to their seductive couches, satis-
fied that Milwaukee's trusty firemen could cope with any confla-
gration that might arise within the jurisdiction of their vigilance.
Had they known that the alarm was the death-knell of scores of
people who were fated to be consumed witli the Newhall House in
the brief space of one hour, it is safe to say that no inclination to
rest would have kept them from the awful spectacle. Many were
so deeply wrapped in slumber that they remained in utter ignor-
ance of the fire : a merciful Providence had spared them the hor-
rors of the night. When they awoke at daybreak they found
sorrow enough. The smoking ruins and the crowded morgue were
indisputable evidence that the hour of the fire Avas filled with woe
unutterable.
0, BURNnWG OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
THE FIRE,
On the record book of the Central Fire Station the folio wing-
entries were made on the 10th day of January, 1883:
Alarm — Box No. 439, 3:47 a. m., corner Nineteenth and Yliet streets.
Telephone Alarm— 4:05 a. m., Newhall House.
Alarm — Box No. 15, 4:08 a. m., Newhall House.
Chief pulled in general alarm at 4:15 a. m., from Box No. 15.
Location — Corner of Michigan and Broadway; six-story brick ; Newhall
House Association, owners; J. F. Antisdel, occupant; business, hotel.
This is the plain official record of the fire. All calls on the Fire
Department are thus recorded, from the slightest blaze to the heavy
conflagration.
The first alarm called Engines No. 2 and No. 5, Hook and I^adder
Truck No. 3, Supply Hose No. 1, and the Chemical Engine. Chief
Lippert accompanied the apparatus.
Assistant Engineer Black, who had intended to make a trip to
Chicago on business, w^as at this time at the North-Western Railway
depot, foot of Wisconsin street, awaiting the arrival of the train
from the north. By a strange dispensation of Providence the
train failed to appear on schedule time, and Mr. Black, w^hile wrest-
ling with impatience at the delay, heard the alarm from Box No.
15. This routed all thoughts of the train and Chicago, and sent
Mr. Black into a hack nnd tlie hack to the Newhall House with all
possible speed.
Engine No. 1 and Hook and Ladder Truck No. 1 dashed out of
the Central Station at the first alarm by telephone, and sj^ed
down Broadway towards Box 15. As the firemen left the house
they could see the reflection of the fire against the buildings
on the sides of Michigan street and Broadway opposite the New-
hall House. Less than two minutes were consumed in the run to
the scene, and yet when the firemen reached the hotel' the fright-
ened guests had commenced to jump to the sidewalks from the
upper windows, and flames were darting out through the windows
on Michigan street near the corner of Broadway.
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 7
Engine No. 1 took water from the hydrant on the corner of
Michigan street and Broadway, opposite the hotel, while Truck No.
1 stopped in front of the building and sent in two hand chemical
extinguishers to fight the flames, which appeared to be raging in
the elevator shaft. Foreman Riemer, of Truck No. 1, accompanied
the men with the extinguishers to take an observation. Water from
the " chemicals " was turned upon the fire in the elevator shaft
while Foreman Meminger, of Engine No. 1, was bringing in a line
of hose from his engine. Riemer seized the first opportunity to
thrust his head into the shaft and looked upward. The glance was
sufficient; he saw the fire burning fiercely in the shaft as far up as
the third story. He immediately cried out that the building was
doomed, and ordered the " chemicals " back to the truck and the
men to the ladders. Foreman Meminger, of Engine No. 1, remained
in the elevator entrance with his pipemen until the position became
untenable. He saw little of the horror of the fire, but had a
narrow escape as he was running the hose through the doorway — a
frenzied jumper from above striking the pavement near by. All
this, of course, took less time than the telling, as moments were
precious. The fire was now roaring to the roof and darting into
the hallways, filling them with smoke.
The first ladder placed against the burning building was one
twenty feet long, which took men from Truck No. 1 to the first bal-
cony with a ladder twenty-four feet long. The second ladder was
raised from the balcony to the third story. On these two ladders,
which together reached a distance of forty -four feet, seven persons
were saved from different rooms in the third story. The fourth
person who escaped on these ladders was a corpulent man who
could not get over the edge of the window-sill to the first round of
the ladder. The firemen lifted the base of the ladder to the top of
the balcony rail and by great exertion held it there until the excited
man passed down over it in safety.
Work with the pair of ladders was then abandoned, and the
extension ladder, with a reach of sixty -five feet, was brought into
use from Truck No. 1. It was successfully sent up against the
8 BURNING OF THE NEW HALL HOUSE.
building and one man came down safel}' over it. An effort Avas
then made to move the ladder over to Allen Johnson and his wife,
who were standing in a window of one of their rooms, facing Broad-
way, imploring aid. The canvas to catch jumpers — fifteen feet
square, with eight handles on each side — was also brought into use.
In moving the ladder it was brought in contact with a projection of
the building; the endless chain that works the extension jumped
from the pinion and the upper section of the ladder came down
with a crash. This hopelessly disabled it. While the first ladders
Avere being raised, W. H. Hall, of Laporte, Ind., who occupied a
room on the fourth floor adjoining that of Martin Weber, his part-
ner in business, became excited at what seemed to him unconscion-
able delay and endeavored to climb down on the window-caps and
sashes. He reached the window of the story below, but slipped
and fell to the walk, receiving fatal injuries.
Long before this. Chief Lippert, Assistant Black and the remain-
der of the department had appeared on the scene and entered act-
ively upon the work of rescue — a duty at that time paramount to
all others. The engines of the department were stationed as fol-
lows: No. 1, corner of Broadway and Michigan streets; No. 4, cor-
ner of East Water and Michigan streets; No. 6, corner of Wisconsin
street and Broadway; No. 5, corner of Wisconsin and East Water
streets; No. 2, foot of ^lichigan street, with suction from the river;
No. 3, corner of Milwaukee and Michigan streets; No. 7, corner of
Huron street and Broadway. The water that was being poured into
the quivering heat through ten nozzles seemed a futile waste. Chief
Lippert, however, was in duty bound to view the situation in all its
phases. While the duty of life-saving held the first place, he had
an eye on the vast furnace that was spangling the wings of the wind
and showering brands of fire upon a large portion of Milwaukee.
Unwilling to take a single chance, the prudent fireman telegraphed
to Chicago and Racine for assistance, and also asked for the engine
at the Soldiers' Home. Chicago and Bacine responded at once.
Three steamers left Chicago at 5:50 a. m., Nos. 5, 10 and 14, together
Avith tAVO men each from (companies 1, 2 and o, and 1.000 yards
BURNING OF THE NEW HALL HOUSE. 9
of extra hose. At Highland Park, about twenty-five miles north of
Chicago, the relief train was countermanded by Chief Tippert, the
fire having spent its strength in the Newhall House. The Racine
relief train w^as also countermanded. Gen. Sharpe, commandant at
the Soldiers' Home, did not send his engine, because the request
was not signed by any one in authority.
Foreman Michael J. Curtin, of Hook and Ladder Truck Xo. 2,
observed the perilous situation of the Johnsons, and was on the
point of returning to his truck for a ladder, when he was informed
that the extension ladder belonging to Truck No. 1 was available.
He assisted in raising it, and witnessed its disablement. At this
time Mrs. Johnson jumped or fell, her body striking the balcony
railing and dropping to the hard pavement. Tlie unfortunate
woman was carried into the American Express office, on the opposite
side of the street, in a dying condition. Wm. Dods worth, of the
Express Company, secured a feather pillow and endeavored to make
the poor woman as comfortable as the means at hand would permit.
He placed the pillow under her head and threw his coat over her
shoulders. As the coat touched her she raised lier hands and
pushed it off, saying, '' It is too hot here," or words to that effect.
These were the only words she spoke after the fatal jump. Mr.
Johnson still stood in the window aw^aiting assistance. The pipe-
man of Engine No. (> was directed to keep the fire away from the
jeopardized man by sending a stream of water into the window, and
over his body, if necessary. Foremen Curtin and Riemer begged
Mr. Johnson not to jump, as another ladder Avould be ))rought to
rescue him. The excited people below drowned the advice of the
foremen with cries of "jump! jump!" and denunciation of the
pipeman of Engine No. G, who was drenching Mr. Johnson. As
Foreman Curtin, of Truck No. 2, turned to go for his extension
ladder the poor man, who was now hanging outward against the
north side of the window of his room, facing Broadway, relaxed
his hold on the casing and jumped, striking the edge of the canvas
which was spread below with such force that it was torn from the
grasp of those wdio attempted to liold it, and [NFr. Johnson struck
K) BURNING OF THE NEJVHALL HOUSE.
tlie pavement heavily, receiving fatal injuries. He was carried to
the American Express office and placed beside his wife, where he
died while ^[r. Dods worth was endeavoring to relieve his suffering
by tenderly chafing him. His body was then taken to Coates'
bath-room, on Mason street, with that of Mrs. Johnson, in which
life faintly lingered for about an hour.
The express office proved a blessed haven for the half-clad
refugees from the ruined hotel, and the injured and dying that were
brought through its doors received unremitting attention from the
kind-hearted Dodsworth. One of the injured girls brought into
the express office was the heroic Kitty Linehan, chief laundress
of the hotel. She had sacrificed her chances for escajDC in a brave
effort to direct her frightened companions to the exits, and cut off
from the avenues of escape she knew so well she was compelled to
leap into the fatal canvas. When brought into the office the brave
girl had strength enough to sit up, but she rapidly failed, and, after
a few gasps, passed beyond the reach of pain. Mr. Dodsworth feels
confident that she could have been saved if stimulants were at
hand, as the ph3^sicians who examined her remains could find no
marks that indicated mortal injury.
After Mr. Johnson had made his fatal jump, Foreman Curtin, of
Truck No. 2, turned towards the alley and was met by Wm. Line-
han, fireman of the hotel, who implored him to bring ladders to the
alley, as the hotel girls were jumping from their quarters in the
fifth story. Foreman Curtin asked for and received assistance
from Truck No. l,and the extension ladder was hurried to the alley.
The scene that was presented to the firemen in that narrow corridor
of death was a frightful one, and it was no wonder the brave men
shrank for a moment at its portals. Foreman Curtin called to the
girls to stay in the windows until he could reach them with the lad-
der. They begged him to hurry. Turning to his assistants, Foreman
Curtin led the way into the jaws of death. Upon the cobble-stones
in the alley lay the bodies of eleven girls, shockingly mangled.
To enter this narrow place under the towering and dangerous wall
of the hotel, with the dead and dying lying at one's feet, called
BTKNIXG OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 11
for a display of true courage. The brave men entered with the
ladder, but before they could use it Foreman Curtin discovered that
a ladder which Foreman Eiemer, of Truck No. I, had ordered
across the alley from an opposite building, was successfully doing
the work he was about to enter upon; he, therefore, relinquished
work with the ladder and ordered the removal of the bodies of the
poor girls. After this was accomplished good work was done with
ladders of both trucks along the Michigan street front of the burn-
ing hotel. One ladder was placed against the fire-escape near the
corner of Broadway, and another over the Michigan street entrance.
Many people came down in safety over them. The extension lad-
der that brave Curtin's men had dragged up the alley in the shadow
of death was not recovered. When all need of rescuers on the
fronts of the building was over, Curtin returned to the alley with
his men to recover it. But Providence interposed in their behalf,
and prompted them to hesitate where they had before rushed in
upon as ghastly a sight as ever man beheld. During this brief
pause the hand of the same kind Providence decreed the fall of the
rear wall of the now hollow shell of the Newhall House. Down it
came with a thundering crash, burying the gory pavement and the
ladder that had brought hope to the jeopardized girls under a heavy
mass of broken brick and crumbled mortar.
Hook and Ladder Truck No. 3 arrived from the Nineteenth
street fire and did good service along the Broadway front, but the
question of life or death was settled for most of the occupants of
the building before it reached the scene.
The noble work on the ladders spanning the alley will be found
recorded under the heading " Heroes of the Fire."
The work of the Truckmen is thus particularized because it
was by far the most important at the fire. The question of extin-
guishment, of course, entered into the fight, but the main object
during the hour in which the immense hotel melted away was the
saving of human life. The excitement of rescue was so absorbing
that not one of those wKo were engaged in the noble work could
tell exactly what had been accomplished even by themselves. So
12 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
much had to be done in short order that there was Httle time for
observation.
While the busy rescuers were putting forth their best efforts, the
frenzied guests and servants impatiently jumped to death on the
cruel stones below. Their mangled bodies were hurried from under
the walls by spectators and carried either into the American Express
office or the Chamber of Commerce building, in the basement of
Avhich cots had been hurriedly set up. Some of the dead and
injured were taken into Stanley & Camp's jewelry store, on the cor-
ner of Wisconsin street and Broadway. The body of one poor girl
was taken to a saloon on East Water street, a few doors north of
Wisconsin, where it remained until morning, when it was removed
to the morgue.
D. G. Power, the well-known real estate agent and inventor,
jumped or fell from his window in the sixth story, on the Michigan
street side of the building, and was killed. He was burned about
the head and face, which was evidence that he either attempted to
escape by the hall and was driven back into his room, or that the
fire invaded his chamber and scorched him out. His body was
taken to the morgue, where it was claimed by his friends. Mr.
Power had in his room a fire-escape of his own invention, but
there was no evidence that he had even attempted to use it.
T. E. Van Loon, a retired capitalist, formerly a resident of
Albany, New "^ork, occupied a room next to that of D. G. Power,
on the sixth floor. He also jumped to death on the pavement.
His body was found lying on tlie steps leading down to the Goetz
barber-shop, in the Ijasement of the hotel. Mr. Van Loon's remains
were taken to the morgue, where they were claimed by a friend.
About the time Allen Johnson and his wife jumped from their
room on the fifth floor, John Gilbert, a brilliant actor, and his wife,
who occupied a room on the same floor, on the Michigan street
front, appeared at the window and jumped. Mrs. Gilbert was
instantly killed; her husband was very badly injured, but he
is now recovering. The tragic fate of this young couple was
particularly sad. They were married in Chicago on the morn-
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 13
ing previous to the fire, and came to Milwaukee to join the theat-
rical troupe with which Mr. Gilbert was connected. Mrs. Gilbert's
maiden name was Sutton. Previous to marrying Mr. Gilbert, Miss
Sutton Avas engaged to a Louisville gentleman by the name of Por-
teous, who went to her home in Canada at the appointed time to
marry her, but, when there, found that she no longer loved him, but
had given her affection to an actor. This new revelation produced
a change in Mr. Porteous' affections, and he found himself enam-
ored with her only sister, whom he soon after married, and, with
his bride, went back to Louisville. His first affianced, no longer
fettered by an engagement with him, soon after went to her new-
found love, and they were married in Chicago, as has been stated.
Mr. and Mrs. Porteous heard of the disaster, and seeing the name
of Mrs. John Gilbert among the dead, suspected the worst, and
came on to Milwaukee, where their sad conjectures were confirmed
when they visited the morgue and found the remains of the one
they had both loved so well. John Gilbert's real name is Donahoe.
He was at one time a resident of Milwaukee. One of the most try-
ing scenes occurred when Mrs. Anna Donahoe, mother of the actor,
searched the morgue for her son's young wife. It was a pitiful
sight — that of the aged, weeping woman kneeling in pools of blood,
tenderly brushing back the hair from the pale, bloody foreheads of
the dead girls, eagerly scanning every lineament of their faces,
caressing the cold hands, examining the clothing upon the corpses,
and striving in every way which suggested itself to her sorrowing
heart to find some mark by which she might positively know her
young daughter-in-law. " This is she," said Mrs. Donahoe, plaint-
ively, as she looked intently upon the form of a girl who had
already been identified as a servant in the hotel. " That is her hair,
those her eyes, and the nose is like Gertrude's. No, no, it can't be
her, though, for she had small hands and a bright, new wedding-
ring." Twice, thrice, INIrs. Donahoe voiced the same certainty, then
doubt, but at last she identified the same corpse which had been
picked out by John R. Rogers, manager of the Minnie Palmer Com-
pany, as that of Mr. Gilbert's wife. This identification was strength-
14 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
ened by the fact that upon this woman's finger was found a plain,
gold band, new and untarnished — evidently the wedding-ring.
This corpse had previously been claimed by the father of a missing
girl who had been employed in the hotel, but Coroner Kuepper,
after much questioning, came to the conclusion that it was Mrs. Gil-
bert's body, and delivered it to her friends.
T. B. Elliott, of the law firm of Jenkins, Elliott & Winkler, was
the last arrival at the ill-fated hotel. He came in on a late train, and
was shown to his room on the fifth floor, where he dozed oft' into a
half slumber from which he was aroused by dense clouds of heated
smoke. He started at once for a window and jumped, striking on
the balcony and receiving fatal injuries. Detective McManus
lowered him from the balcony, and Lieutenant Jansen, of the
police force, took him to the Kirby House.
Walter H. Scott, an employe in the general ticket oftice of the
Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway, who occupied a room next
to Mr. Elliott's, jumped to the pavement and received injuries that
caused his death in a short time. He died in the American Express
office, whither he had been carried.
Judson J. Hough, of Maroa, 111., nephew of Allen Johnson, oc-
cupied a room on the fifth floor next to the Johnsons, on the Broad-
way front of the building, near the fatal elevator. When first
observed from the street he was sitting astride the ornamental cap
of the window of the fourth floor, just below his room, shielding
his head and neck from the flames which were sweeping out of the
apartment he had hastily deserted. Before an effort could be made
in his behalf the fire broke through the glass of the window over
which he was sitting and the cruel flames licked upward about
his person, compelling him to let go. Mr. Hough dropped to the
balcony, receiving fatal injuries. He was at first thought to be dead,
and no eff'ort was made to remove his body, as the living claimed
all attention, but a moan from the suff'erer attracted a fireman
and Mr. Hough was taken from the balcony and removed to the
Central Police Station, where he died. He was conscious when he
arrived at the station, and sent for Alfred James, secretary of the
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 15
Northwestern National Insurance Company, of which he was a
special agent. Mr. James hastened to the station and remained
with poor Hough to the end. Policemen inured to scenes of woe
say that the most pathetic sight they ever witnessed was that of
the dying man painfully syllabling the words " Ma-roa, wife,
ba-by." The last thoughts of the departing soul were with loved
ones whom it had left in the full tide of health, never to see again
on the earthly side of the dark valley of death.
E. Erickson and S. A. Grant, of Palmyra, Wis., had a thrilling
escape from their rooms on the fourth floor. jNIr. Erickson was
awakened by the confusion in the hall. He jumped out of bed
and called ]Mr. Grant, his room-mate, saying that the house was on
fire, and opened the door to find the hall filled with hot air and a
little smoke, with the fire about forty feet distant. Grant told
Erickson to close the door while they dressed, as an escape through
fire could be more successfully made while clothed with woolens.
They both dressed, even putting on their overcoats, Erickson being
cool enough to remember and secui-e $300 under his pillow. They
then rushed to the window and called for help, which was not
at hand. T.ooking down, Erickson saw the cast-iron cap on top
of the window below, which projected outward and upward.
The apex of this projection was only two feet below him. Holding
fast to the window sash in his own room, which was the second
room from the alley and fronting on ^lichigan street, in the fourth
story, he stepped down on the iron cap, swung himself to the center
of the window and broke it through with his feet, never letting go
with one hand until the other was fast hold of something else. He
then held fast to the center bar of the sash and dropped to the
window sill, breaking the glass, grasping hold of the center bar of
the sash until he could swing himself on to the next window cap,
thus repeating the operation down three stories until he came to the
dining-room on the second floor. Erickson made the descent from
the dining-room by the aid of a table-cloth and the telegraph wires
that entered the Mutual Union office in the basement of the hotel.
Grant, instead of following Erickson, ran twenty or twenty -five feet
16 BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE.
in the hall, when he was driven back with scorched face and hands.
He broke open the door of a room, rushed to the window, and
called to Erickson, who directed him to descend as he was doing.
Grant accepted his brave companion's advice and was saved.
Gen. Tom Thumb and wife were rescued by Police Officer
O'Brien, who awakened them by loud knocking at the door. The
General arose and admitted the officer. They immediately looked
about for means of egress. Officer O'Brien opened the window and
a ladder was raised at once. The room was situated on the third
floor, directly over the entrance on Michigan street. Gen. Thumb
descended the ladder first, followed by the policeman with Mrs.
Thumb in his arms.
Sylvester Bleeker, manager of the Tom Thumb Company, and
wife, occupied a room on the fourth floor directly over those occu-
pied by Tom Thumb and wife. Mr. Bleeker tied strips of bed-
clothes together, and began to lower his wife to the balcony below.
She lost her hold and fell to the balcony, dislocating her left shoul-
der, breaking her left arm, dislocating her left hip and fracturing
her right leg, besides receiving numerous cuts about her body and
face. She was taken into the room of ^ir. and Mrs. Gen. Tom Thumb
and from there lowered to the ground by means of a rope. Mr.
i^leeker succeeded in climbing down also, and reached the sidewalk
from the balcony over a ladder that had l)een raised for his rescue.
Mrs. Bleeker's injuries proved fatal. Her real name was Groesbeck,
Bleeker being a professional name.
L. W. Brown and wife occupied a room on the fifth floor of the
Broadway front, near the elevator, between the rooms occupied by
J. J. Hough and Walter H. Scott. Mrs. Brown was awake and
clothed at the time the fire was discovered, awaiting the hour of
departure of an early train on which she intended to leave the city.
Mr. l^rown was still in bed. Mrs. Brown heard the alarm in the
halls and fancied she could distinguish the peculiar roar of re-
strained flames. She told her husband of her fears, but he merely
placed his hand on the wall and jocularly remarked that heat was
an accompaniment of fire, and that the wall was cold. The noise
BUR.VnVG OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 17
becoming greater each moment, Mrs. Brown prevailed on her hus-
band to investigate the cause. He arose and opened the door, let-
ting in a puff of smoke. The flames were then leaping a foot above
tlie floor al^out the elevator shaft. Mr. Brown sprang back into the
room and told his wife to prepare to leave the building, as it was on
fire. He dressed in a hurried manner, and both attempted to leave
the room. The flames, however, had so far progressed during the
brief time it took ]Mr. Brown to clothe himself that escape by the
hall was impossible. Tearing up the sheets and blankets Mr.
Brown made a rope which he let down to the balcony. Tying the
hastily improvised life line to a sewing machine, Mr. Brown endeav-
ored to persuade his wife to lower herself to the balcony, three
stories below, but she was afraid to trust herself on the frail looking
rope. In order to assure her of its strength, Mr. Brown swung out
and reached the balcony in safety, his wife promising him that in
the event of his success she would follow immediately. While Mr.
Jirown was swinging in mid-air on the perpendicular wall of the
building a dark body shot swiftly by him; it flashed through his
mind that his wife had jumped. On reaching the balcony Brown
inquired for the woman who had jumped or fallen. The firemen
told him that no woman had thus escaj^ed. ^Ir. Brown then
made frantic efforts to find his wife, but failed. It subsequently
transpired that the poor woman had jumped or fallen as her hus-
band suspected, and that lier body had been hurried to the morgue,
where it was recognized on the following day.
W . R. Busenbark, of Chicago, roomed on the fourth floor, Michi-
gan street front, with W. (^ AMley, of Detroit, who had come to Mil-
waukee with him to establish an office for the Michigan Central
Railway. They w^ere awakened by the roar of the fire, the all-per-
vading smoke and the confusion in the hall. INIr. Wiley dashed
out in the hall in a wild endeavor to escai)e, and was seen no more.
Mr. Ikisenbark, finding escape b}^ the hall ini])ossible, turned to
the window, and seeing the telegraph wires stretched between him
and the hard pavement made a sprawling jump for them. He
struck ^upon the wires, which in their 'recoil threw him off and lie
18 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
fell to the street, severely injuring his back. Mr. Busenbark also
received a number of bad cuts from the wires.
The most appalling sight witnessed during the disastrous confla-
gration was the death of Miss Libbie A. Chellis, head dressmaker in
T. A. Chapman's dry goods store. She occupied a room on the
Broadway front of the sixth floor, near the corner of Michigan
street. When the building was seething with fire she appeared at
her window and sank upon her knees, as if invoking Divine aid in
the supreme hour of peril. Her friends on the street instantly
recognized her and begged her to jump. She made no effort what-
ever, but maintained her supplicating position until the flames
curled about her and bore her backward w^ow the gigantic funeral
pyre. A thrill of horror swept through the witnesses of this crown-
ing scene in the vast panorama of death.
The good work performed by the Truckmen with their ladders
was supplemented by heroic efforts on both facades of the burning
hotel by volunteers, w^ho chose noble work instead of surrendering
to idle curiosity. One of these noble men, Oscar Kleinsteuber, an
attache of the Police Department, climbed up the Broadway side
of the building on the Benner fire escape, and rushing into the hall-
Avays, called to those groping about in the blinding smoke. His
efforts were rewarded by the saving of a number of lives, at a time
when the bare thought of ascending the threatening walls appalled
many a stout heart. The corridors of the building w^ere at that
time filled with smoke and flame that swept through them like fire
through a chimney flue, driving the victims to the windows, and,
in a number of instances, claiming the unfortunates in plain sight
of the palsied multitude in the street.
In the alley, where the brave Truckmen made such lieroic res-
cues, the scene before their appearance was one of blood-curdling
agony. Long before the fire appeared in their rooms the frenzied
girls connnenced their terrible leaps to certain death. Their ears
seemed closed against all appeals from their friends below, Avho saw
no reason for the bloody sacrifice. One after another they hur-
riedly jumped, until eleven of them lay weltering in gore upon the
BURNING OF THE- NEWHALL HOUSE. ]<)
cold stone pavement in the alley. Those who saw the forms of the
girls dart downward and heard the sickening concussion as they
struck, will never be able to efface the scene from the tablets of
memory.
When so much was enacted before the multitude, on the outer
walls of the building, and so little remembered in detail, owing to
the attendant confusion, what can be accurately given of the pan-~
demonium that prevailed 'in the halls of the hotel when the lights
had been extinguished by the smoke, and the bewildered ^'ictims
were rushing hither and thither, blindly hoping for accidental
escape, and gasping for the breath of life ? From the glowing core
of the fire, the elevator shaft, the flames swept outward and upward
with withering fervency. The very air throughout the house seemed
to yield up its elements to combustion. The heat was so intense
that the fcAV who escaped were painfully burned by the hot blasts
in the halls where the flames had not yet reached.
Away up in the sixth story along the north wall, with windows
opening above the roof of Sherman's photograph gallery, roomed
James McAlpine, Andrew Hardy and .J. R. Duval. Mr. Hardy
instinctively awoke when the fire was in full sway. He felt the
danger that was at that very moment closing about him and his
companions. Jumping from his bed, he hailed Mr. McAlpine, tell-
ing him the house was burning, at the same time striking a match
and lighting the gas. Before they could fully realize their position
the rushing heat forced in the transom and instantly the thick
smoke put out the gas. They \)o\h sprang for the window, which
they crushed out, and just as the hot air was overpowering them
they sank outward and fell to the roof, some distance below, where
they were restored to sensibility by Mr. Duval, who had preceded
them to the roof. The only occupants of rooms on the sixth floor
who escaped, besides the three just mentioned, were Ben. K. Tice,
chief clerk, and Patrick Conroy and Thomas Cleary, bell-boys.
Mr. Tice says he was awakened by an indescribable sensation.
His room was rapidly filling with smoke, and on opening the door to
the hallway black masses of suffocating smoke pressed into the apart-
20 BURNING OF THE NEW HALL HOUSE.
merit. He immediately started for the hose near by to fight the
fire, but as he rushed through the hall the hot air scorched and
burned him. He attempted to arouse Messrs. Van I.oon, Power
and Reed, and Miss Chellis, but failed on account of the overpow-
ering heat. Two of the bell-boys were shouting for help, and Mr.
Tice called to them to follow him, but they ran in an opposite
direction, while Mr. Tice went to the window at the end of the hall
next the alley, broke it out, went down the ladder built on the side
of the building, and dropped to the roof of the bridge beween
the hotel and the bank building. As he reached this point
he heard some one attempting to open the door on the fifth
floor of the hotel leading to the bridge. Breaking in the door he
found lizzie Anglin and carried her to the roof of the bank build-
ing. Lizzie then called for Mollie Connors, her room-mate, and
Mr. Tice returned for her; but as the flames were pouring furiously
from the door and window from which they had just escaped, Mol-
lie's rescue w^as an impossibility. Mr. Tice broke a Avindow in the
roof of the bank building and took Miss Anglin, who was fatally
burned, to a hallway below, where clothing w^as furnished him.
He attempted to enter upon further work of rescue, but the
intense heat through which he passed had so roasted his hands and
face that he was compelled to desist. ^Mr. Tice claims that he w^as
not touched by fire and that the burns he received painfully illus-
trated the terrible heat in the upper corridors of the ill-fated hotel.
The servants' quarters in the Newhall were on the fifth floor,
and ranged along the alley side of the building, from a point about
twenty feet north of JNIichigan street to a point about twenty feet
south of the north end of the building, and the rooms were built
along a hall which ran north and south and at each end was totally
separated from the guests' apartments by heavy doors. The rescued
girls say that the first they knew of the fire was wdien Linehan, the
engineer, awakened them with orders to run out and follow him,
without w'aiting to dress. Linehan says the hall swarmed with
girls after he gave the alarm, and thinking they would follow him.
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 21
as he directed, lie rushed down stairs to find that only one had
obeyed his instructions.
Mary Gavin, who escaped across the alley on the ladder raised
by the heroic firemen, says she was awakened by screams in
the hallway. She aroused her room-mate and they ran into
the hall, which was full of smoke and very hot. They all
ran. toward the south end of the hall which opened upon a
staircase, but were driven back by smoke and heat. The air was
suffocatingly hot, and some of the girls fainted. A number of
them went to the rooms facing the alley and broke out windows to
get air. Men could be seen below, looking up, but nobody seemed
to be doing anything toward their rescue. '' The smoke grew
thicker and the air hotter, " said Miss ({avin. " I supposed
the other girls were standing up behind me. As nobody
said anything 1 looked around, but the smoke was so thick
I could not see anybody. I went to the door and looked out into
the hall and could see no one. It seemed as if I was alone in the
building. I turned to go back to the window to breathe and as I
did so I fell over something. I felt aron.nd on the floor and found
all the girls who had been with me lying there, seeming to be
suffocated. I got back to the window and called to the men below
to do something. I could see girls jumping out of other windows
or hanging to the window sills till they fell dead to the ground
below. Suddenly men on the roof of a building across the alley
put a ladder across to my window and called to me to go over. I
stooped down an<l tried to wake the other girls, but they did not
stir. Then a man came across the ladder and took up one of the
girls and carried her across. Then I went over and the men
carried some of the others out."
Mary McCauley, who was also saved by the l^rave firemen, over
the ladder bridge, says: " I was awakened by the shouts and
screams of the others and ran into the hall. It was full of the girls
rushing wildly up and down, crying and screaming. I rushed to
the end of the hall, peeped through the door and saw everything
was smoke and fire outside. I then ran back, and passing a room
•22 B[/RXi:^G OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE.
where seven girls bad taken refuge, joined them and we all knelt in
prayer. One of the girls had a crucifix and a stoat woman prayed
out loud. Just as we had given up all hope the window crashed
in our room and I fainted. It so happened the firemen with the
ladder had found our room out of thirty others, and we, with a few
others, were saved."
Orange Williams, of Janesville, had a room on the Broadway
front of the fifth floor. The noise in the hall and on the street
roused him from deep sleep to face a double danger. The hall
was filled with smoke that was stifling, and the heat was intense.
He went to the window and stood on the casing, looking down
upon the exciting spectacle. On calling for help, he was informed
by some one on the walk that there was a fire-escape on the wall a
short distance, from him, toward Wisconsin street. Mr. Williams
re-entered his room and went out in the hail, where the screams and
moans of the panic-stricken and dying appalled him. He groped
along the smoky hallway, stumbling over a fallen victim in his
course, and finally reached the escape.
J. C. Clark, of Wausau, roomed on the fourth floor on the
Broadway side. He heard the confusion and roar in the hallway,
but did not leave his room until he had dressed himself, cooll}^
lighting the gas for that purpose. He had been a guest of the
Newhall at various times, and had familiarized himself with the
exact location of the fire-escapes. When Mr. Clark left his room
he crawled along the hallway until he arrived at the window lead-
ing to the escape. This he broke, and mounting the ladder low-
ered himself to the balcony, entered the office and escaped to
the street.
T. J. Anderson, of Chicago, was aroused by the shrieking of the
terrified inmates. He was in the corner room on the fourth floor.
On opening the door the smoke and blaze poured in. He perceived
that escape by the regular course through the corridors was impos-
sible, but managed to open a window near the Benner fire-escape,
on the Michigan street side, where he irresolutely stood in the heat,
calling for help. Detective Mc^Ianus entreated him to come down
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 23
the fire-escape, which he finally did; while McManus was after a
short ladder to take him from the last rounds of the escape, one
story above the walk, Anderson became impatient and slid down
the stand pipe connected with the escape, reaching the walk all
right. The onh^ garment he had on was a gauze shirt.
John L. Kellogg, traveling freight agent of the Chicago, Milwau-
kee & St. Paul Railroad, had a room on the third floor, about the
center of the Broadway front of the hotel. He was awakened by
a piece of hot glass from the transom window falling upon him.
Hastily dressing himself he tore his sheets and blankets into strips
and made a rope. With this he lowered Miss Warren, of the Tom
Thumb troupe, to the balcony; he followed her and both were
saved.
Of all the guests who escaped from the Xewhall House with their
lives none sufFerecl such injury from running the gauntlet of the
flanies as did William E. Cramer, the veteran editor and proprietor
of The Evening Wisconsin, and his good wife. They occupied a suite
of rooms in the southeast corner of the building, on the floor above
the office. Mrs. Cramer awoke with the noise of the flames as they
roared and crackled in the elevator shaft — diagonally opposite the
sleeping-room — filling her ears. She sprang out of bed, hastily
opened the door, saw the fire in the shaft and smoke in the hall.
Beyond the roar of the flames she heard no unusual sounds, and
saw no one moving; the hallways were deserted, and the occupants
of rooms opening into them apparently remained ignorant of the
terrible danger that confronted them. She awakened her husband
and informed him of the fire and the imperative necessity of mov-
ing toward the street without waiting to dress. He seemed loth to
move thus, but she dragged him into and across the hall to the
south staircase. Huge tongues of flame were then darting from
the shaft, and a portion of the stairway was on fire. Placing her-
self between him and the flames, she led him past them and down
the stairs to the office floor below. There the elevator shaft was
safely passed, and after waiting on the landing and in the glass
lobby facing Broadway for some minutes, she asked a policeman
24 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
to call a hack. This was done, and by her direction she and her
husband were conveyed to the Plankinton House. It was not until
both were ready to leave the hotel that Mr. and ^Irs. Cramer dis-
covered that they had suffered injury from the fire. And yet both
were terribly burned about the lower limbs, shoulder, neck, face,
and head. The marble tiling of the office floor in front of the shaft
was so heated that it burned and blistered their feet. At this
writing the injured couple are slowly recovering.
W. F. Schmidt was awakened from a sound sleep in his room
on the fourth floor. For an instant he was terror-stricken. The
room was filled with smoke, on the wall was the flickering reflec-
tion of fire, and the roaring of the consuming element could be
heard above the frantic shrieks that resounded through the house.
Recovering from the terror t!:at possessed him, and fully realizing
his danger, he jumped from the bed, and hastily pulling on a pair
of pants, fled from the room. On opening the door he encountered
a thick cloud of smoke and was for a moment stifled. The hall-
way was very dark, and from the swirling blackness came
groans of anguish and unearthly yells of despair. He advanced
into the corridor, and a crowd of hurrying people hustled him from
one side to the other. Mr. Schmidt said the desperate people,
transformed into maniacs, were hurling themselves against the walls
and falling dazed to the floor. Others tramped over prostrate forms
on the floor in their endeavor to find an exit from the hallway.
Mr. Schmidt, in his haste to find the stairway, struck his head
sharply against a door or casement and became unconscious. When
he recovered his senses he was seated on the floor. The intense
heat had singed his hair and blistered his ears and nose. For sev-
eral moments he groped helplessly in the darkness and finally,
despairing of being saved, prepared to meet his fate. Suddenly
some one grasped his hand firmly and pulled him along, shouting,
" This way, this way ! " Another person caught his other hand and
the trio rushed onward. At last they reached the stairway. The
story below was brightly illuminated. They rushed, half tumbling,
down the staircase, and in the passage below saw a woman curled
lU^J^yiNG OF THE NRIVHALL HOUSE. 25
lip on the lioor. " Don't step on her ! " said Mr. Schmidt's conduc-
tor, " she is dead ! " In this way they reached the boiler-room and
made their escape into the alley. Mr. Schmidt's rescuer was the
heroic Wm. Linehan, engineer of the hotel, who, from the first dis-
covery of the fire until all hope of further rescue had fled, devoted
himself to the work of life-saving with all the energy that he could
summon. The woman Mr. vSchmidt saw lying in death-like stupor
on the floor was an employe of the hotel whom Linehan had
rescued. She was afterwards resuscitated.
M. Moran, of Beloit, Wis., occupied a room on the third floor,
opening on the court. He was awakened by hearing a crashing
noise. Supposing it was the pantry girls throwing the dishes
around at breakfast time, he lay in bed several moments.
Suddenly he heard cries of '' Murder ! " " Fire ! " and shrieks of
frightened women. He jumped out of bed and opened the door.
The draft was such that the door was slammed in his face and the
room was filled with smoke. He grabbed his clothes and rushed out.
While running down the hall he stumbled and fell over the body
of a woman. She was unconscious, and anothei- woman was lying
beside her. They were both in front of the room adjoining his.
Two other women were rushing up and down the hall crying in
despah'. Moran caught one of them by the arm and dragged her
to the end of the hall. She there broke away from him and rushed
back into the burning building. There was a sheet of flame across
the end of the hall, but ^Foran heard a man calling from the other
side: " Come through, it is only two feet deep. " He rushed
through the flames, still clinging to his clothes, and got out of the
building.
Samuel Martin occupied a room on the third floor, his win-
dow opening on the court. When awakened by the noise and
smoke he seized his pants and rushed into the hall. Looking
down the hall he saw a sheet of flame rushing along like a prairie
fire. He was so utterly bewildered that when he escaped he could
not tell how he got into the only garment he had saved. As Mr.
Martin dashed toward the allev before the advancing flames, a man
26 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
sprang out of a room and fell prostrate. Moved by a strange
impulse, Mr. Martin entered a room^ seized a sheet and threw it
over the fallen man. A thinly-clad woman then appeared and over
her shoulders Mr. Martin threw a blanket. He then seized a
blanket himself and rushed down the servant's stairs to the alley.
He proceeded to the Kirby House, where, to his astonishment, he
found the man upon whom he had thrown the sheet sitting in the
ofhce with the self-same sheet over his shoulders.
J. W. Maxwell, of Chicago, had a thrilling escape. He occupied
an inside room on the third floor, near the elevator. He had been
filled with sti-ange forebodings during the night, and his slumber in
consequence was uneasy. He awoke to see the flames darting in
over the transom of his room. The smoke in the hallway was very
heavy; through it came the groans and shrieks of the unfortunates
who were wrapped in its stifling folds. The horrid delusions of
Maxwell's broken sleep were now equaled, but it took a mouthful
of the stifling smoke and a coughing spell to awaken him to a full
realization of his situation. He endeavored to unlock his door to
get out in the hallway, but the key broke ofl' in the lock. He tried
to turn the stump but did not succeed. In his desperation Maxwell
seized the knob of the door and wrenched it off". Finding escape
by the door impossible he turned to the window, ripped out the
sash and dropped to the roof of the court, a few feet below. He ran
along the roof, in the glare of the fire, amid falling sparks, to another
window, which he entered. The door of the room was locked.
^Maxwell climbed back into the court and tried another room,
without success. Returning to the court, which was now a picture
of hell, he ran from room to room until he found one with the door
open. Crawling on hands and knees through the hall he succeeded
in making his escape.
C. W. Briggs, of Grand Rapids, Wis., slept in a room on the
third floor opening on tlie court. The breaking of glass by the
heat and the draft through the hall awakened him. He seized his
clothing and rushed out into the smoke. A wall of flame barred
progress in the direction in which he at first ran, and he was com-
Br/^N/A^G OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 27
pelled to double on his tracks and seek egress in the opposite
direction. A stupor seized him and it was only by determined
effort that he could shake it off. Fortunately he reached the
stairway, the first flight of which he blindly traversed. He fell at
the head of the second flight and Avent to the bottom, receiving
severe bruises. Mr. Briggs' escape was an extremely narrow one.
Emil Flesh escaped from his room on the third floor, on the
Broadway side, by making a rope out of his blankets. He says that
when he awoke his room was literally filled with rats, which were
scampering around the floor.
To more fully illustrate the horror of the situation on the upper
floors during the fire, the graphic statement of Edward P. Haff, of
New York, who occupied a room on the third floor, on Michigan
street, adjoining the alley, is given. Mr. Haff says: " A terrible sen-
sation of a crushing weight upon my chest awoke me, and I lay for
a moment dazed and half smothered, and heard a clock strike four.
The thick smoke in the room was stifling, and groping to the door I
opened it. The rush of flame and heated air, not smoke alone, but
scorching, burning air, met me, taking away my breath, and well
nigh my senses. A reeling form, with hair and whiskers burned
from the face, and eyebrows gone, staggered toward me with wide-
open mouth, gasping for breath. From the parched throat came
inarticulate moans. I pulled him into the room, closed the door,
and tried to open the window. It was locked. I broke a pane
of glass and caught a whiff of God-given air. By the light of
the burning building I could see the telegraph wires twenty feet
away and half resolved to jump. My companion in the room
revived a little, and said he had come from No. 221, only four
rooms distant, and yet he had nearly perished in making the jour-
ney. His name was Mahoney, and he was from Rock Island."
After measuring the chances of escape by jumping or by a
dash through the hall, Mr. Haff and Mr. Mahoney chose the
latter method and prepared for the effort. Mr. Haff thus tells
of the escape: " Covering our faces so as to breathe as little of the
torrid air as possible, we again opened the door and ran along the
28 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
hallway toward the alley. We met a young woman staggering
through the smoke and groping along the walls, apparently blinded
or dazed. As she was almost naked, I caught up a couple of sheets,
threw them around her, and tried to lead her with me. She was
hopelessly frightened, however, and could only moan: 'My God!
My God! I can't!' She finally fell into an open doorway, and I
left her lying across the threshold. My companion and I crossed
the bridge into the bank building, and descended to the ground."
An hour after the discovery of the fire the towering walls of the
hotel simply bounded a huge furnace, that sent upward immense
clouds of vapor and smoke. Into the quivering heat of the inner
ruin the Fire Department continued to pour water from seven
engines; nothing more could be done. At 5: 30 o'clock the Broad-
way wall of the ruined structure bulged out and fell to the
pavement with a thundering crash, followed shortly after by a
portion of the ^Michigan street wall, near Broadway. About this
time a piece of the cornice and a mass of brick fell from the top of
the Michigan street Avail, near the alley, where Ben. Van Haag,
first pipeman of Supply Hose No. 2 was holding a nozzle with a
companion and directing a stream of water into the ruins. Seeing
the falling mass they beat a hasty retreat; but Van Haag was not
swift enough. The rul.)bish struck the telegraph wires and broke a
large pole into several pieces, one of which felled Van Haag to the
frozen earth. He was at first thought to be fatally injured, but he
rallied from the efi'ects of the shock and recovered. This was the
only serious injury suft'ered by a fireman during the battle with
the consuming element.
The fire had now burnt itself out, but its glowing embers
required constant attention. The inner ruin was a fervent crucible,
in which was being reduced to ashes the remains of over two score
of human beings who less than two hours before were slumbering
in blissful ignorance of their impending fate. The blow was
almost as swift as the flash of steel; and, although the end of the
doomed was frightful to contemplate, their friends can spare
themselves the harrowing thought that they suffered the pangs of
BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 29
slow death by fire, as the evidence of survivors proves conclusively
that the dark angel's summons came through a cloud of smoke
that brought with it the boon of unconsciousness. Fireman, police-
man and citizen had braved death in the work of rescue, but
Fate had willed that their efforts should prove futile. Mistakes
were, undoubtedly, made in the excitement of the hour; the fire-
fighters were more than human had their work been perfect.
The consuming element liad the mastery from the start, and its
work was accomj)lished with such appalling swiftness that nerves
of steel were for the nonce untempered. Criticism cannot restore the
dead, neither will it prevent like occurrences under like circum-
stances.
THE RUINS,
The scene in the neighborhood of the tragic spot shortly after
daylight dawned was one that will never be forgotten by those who
witnessed it. A perfect sea of dumb-stricken humanity encircled
the crumbled walls and broken columns of what only a few
hours before was one of the city's stately edifices. Police ofhcers
and firemen were hurrying hither and thither in the performance
of their duties, while, as if to give the ne'w-comers a confirmation
of the terrible tale that had been poured in their ears, shortly after 7
o'clock, four bearers with a ghastly burden emerged from the edge
of the ruins and deposited it in a sleigh for conveyance to the
morgue. The seven steam engines which were massed in close
proximity to the fiery pile kept up an incessant din, which was
varied at intervals by the sharp jingle of breaking glass, as the sud-
den reaction from the extreme heat to which they had been sub-
jected, sent the fine plate glass fronts of nearly all the stores on the
east side of Broadway to the pavement in fragments. Dense clouds
of smoke and steam completely veiled the ruins, and it was almost
impossible to get a clear view of the whole place at one time. Tow-
ering above the writhing mass of vapor stood jagged monoliths of
brick and mortar, remnants of the partition walls, wdiitened by the
30 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
intense heat. Broad vva}" was comparatively clear, except as to the
western sidewalk, which was heaped high with brick and rafters.
Michigan street, in front of the Chamber of Commerce building, was
strewn with debris, over which about two-thirds of the south wall,
slightly buttressed by a fragment of the alley wall, reared its head
in a threatening manner. Almost the entire north wall remained
standing, owing to the support given it by the Sherman building.
Along its seared and scorched face the iron frames of the fire-places
around which the guests had grouped themselves in fancied security
only a few hours previous, still adhered. Another object of
pathetic interest to observers was a table-cloth dangling from
one of the dining-room windows, to the frame of which it had been
tied by some unfortunate endeavoring to escape the flames. Like
the walls and everything else in the neighborhood of the fire, the
table-cloth was thickly coated with ice. The crowd of spectators at
last grew to such proportions that the police found it necessary to
draw a cordon around the immediate neighborhood of the fire, and
the avenues bounding the ruins were closed for the day. The
struggling mass of humanity pressed closely against the hempen
barrier throughout the entire day and far into the night succeeding
the calamity, seeming loth to leave the weird spot and retire to the
quietude of home.
THREE IMPORTANT STATEMENTS,
The following statements are printed in order to give an idea
of the origin of the fire and the rapidity of its progress:
STATEMENT OF WILLIAM McKENZIE, ELEVATOR CONDUCTOR.
At 2 o'clock in the morning I took a Mr. Brown, connected with the
" Kanch 10 " Company, from the first to the third floor in the elevator. After
taking Brown I took care of a grate fire in the oftice, and then made a tour of
inspection through the dining-room and kitchen. From the kitchen I went
through the cellar and engine-room, and returned to the oflice floor. This
occupied my time a trifle over half an hour. I next went down the main
stairway and around past the saloon to the ladies' entrance, to see that no
tramps had found lodging there. About 3 o'clock I was on the oftice floor
waiting for passengers by the trains which usually arrive at that hour. The
train was late and I made another tour of the house, taking in the first and
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 31
second floors, the bank building, and the kitclien and cellar. On my return
at half-past three or twenty-flve minutes to four I took up Mr. Elliott, who
came on the delayed train. I took him to the fifth floor, where he roqmed.
There I let the elevator stand and made a tour of the halls of that floor.
While coming around to the elevator again I met a gentleman apparently
searching for a room-number. AVent toward him and recognized him as a
man who slept on the floor above. Invited him into the elevator and carried
him up. Again let the elevator stand and made a tour of the halls there.
Took a look at the clock on this top floor, and found it to indicate ten minutes
of four. This clock could not be depended upon for correctness, however.
My time to call the help is 4 o'clock. I had the kitchen fireman to call on
this floor, and as I passed the elevator to do so I saw smoke issuing from the
shaft at the bottom of the car. I immediately sprang into the elevator and
descended to see where it was coming from. By the time I reached the floor
above the oflice the smoke had become so dense that I stopped the elevator
and ran down the next flight of stairs to the oflice. Tom Delaney, the night
clerk, was standing in front of the counter. I said to him : "Tom, there is
smoke coming up through here, and I am going to see where it comes from."
I then ran down the main stairway, and around to the main elevator,
followed by Tom. I found the passage leading to the Michigan street
entrance so filled with smoke that 1 could not enter. I said to Tom. '"' Turn
the water on," as I closed the door, and he replied: "I'll telephone for the
firemen." Then I rushed into the pitcher closet, and shouted down to
Linehan to come up, as there was fire in the elevator. After doing this I
returned to the hallway below and found the smoke as bad as ever. Linehan
here rushed past me into the hallway leading to the Michigan street entrance.
I spoke : " There's no use staying here. We had better call the house;" with
which I rushed up to the third floor, shouting " Fire !" and I kicked in the
door of Mr. and Mrs. Cramer's sleeping- room; also the door of room 24,
occupied by some of the Tom Thumb people. The fire was now beginning
to burst out of the elevator door on this floor. The smoke and fire appeared
suddenly and enveloped me so that I gave up the idea of running to the floor
above, which I had in mind. In fact, the smoke became so dense that it
fairly bewildered me. I dropped upon the floor, and hastily crawled to the
passage leading across the alley to the bank building. Here even the heat
which preceded me had warmed the knob of the door. The first gust of
smoke and hot air from the elevator almost stifled me. Through the bank
building I proceeded to the street, and assisted people who sprang from the
windows, and also helped to raise a ladder to Tom Thumb's room, so that
he and his wife could be got out.
STATEMENT OF ENGINEER WILLIAM LINEHAN.
I came on duty at half-past 3 o'clock in the morning, and at ten minutes
before 4 turned steam on for the office. I then sat down for about ten min-
utes, after which I tried the steam-gauge and shut the furnace dampers.
At 4 o'clock — perhaps a few minutes sooner or later— I heard the warning
32 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
call of the night watchman, directed to nie from the pitcher-closet on the
office floor. The watchman informed me hastily of the discovery of a fire
in the hotel. I ran to the ottice floor via the rear or servants' stairway and
shouted: " Tom, where is all the fire coming from?" The reply was: " 1
don't know, but the house is full of smoke." (Tom was the night clerk). 1
then ran down to the main floor and reeled off a line of canvas hose, which
I dragged up-stairs. As I reached the landing flames were working through
the office floor near the elevator entrance. This caused me to run down-
stairs again for the purpose of directing the firemen, who had arrived and
were running two lines of hose into the elevator entrance. After having
done this I once more proceeded to the oflice floor, and encountered Mr. and
Mrs. W. E. Cramer and the housekeeper, Mrs. Lusk, near the landing of the
old ladies' entrance stairway. I next retraced my steps to the basement via
the back stairway, and got a lamp, intending to run up-stairs to the upper
floors and arouse the help. Before doing so, however, I ran forward through
the basement to the bottom of the elevator shaft, a distance of eighty feet,
and opened the door leading into the bottom of the shaft. I only pulled the
door ajar sufficiently to thrust my head into the shaft. My attention was
immediately drawn to flames rushing into and up the shaft through the east
wall. This wall was merely a board partition separating the wood and gen-
eral store-room of the Goetz barber-shop from the shaft. The flames did
not till the shaft, but merely rushed upward along this eastern board-parti-
tion wall. I had to withdraw my head from the shaft quickly, as the current
of air rushing upward was so strong that it lifted a silk cap which I wore off
my head, and I barely saved it from being swept upward into the vortex of
fire. The point where the flames seemed to burst into the shaft was between
three and four feet, or a little more than an ordinary barrel high. When I
withdrew my head I closed the door and ran back with all the speed I pos-
sessed, to and up the back stairway, as far as the tank-room, between the
fourth and fifth floors. There I shouted to those above that they should
come to me and I would save them. No one responded. I then descended
to the third floor, where I met a German girl (the vegetable cook in the
kitchen), whose name I do not now remember, and asked her if she knew
where my sister Kate was. The girl replied that Kate was all right, as she
(the girl) had been called by her. I heard some one moaning in the hall,
and proceeding through the smoke in the direction of the sound, I found a
young woman, who afterwards proved to be Julia Burns, lying upon the floor
senseless and4foaming at the mouth. She was scantily dressed. I took her
in my arms and carried her to the landing on the office level, and put her
down upon the floor. Then I went back up-stairs, found a man lying sense-
less, and bore him to the same landing, where there was no smoke. This
man 1 covered with a buffalo robe. I went back a third time and brought
down a dining room girl named Christina something, who roomed on the
third floor. The fourth trip I brought down Lizzie Anglin, who afterwards
<lied at the Axtel House, from eff'ects of burns, although to me, at the time,
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 33
she did not appear to be injured. The jBfth trip put the second porter in my
hands, and I brouglit him down to the same landing with the others. A
sixth trip resulted in the rescue of a man whom I encountered with a blanket
wrapped around him. By this time the smoke had become so dense that I
could not go up any more, and I turned my attention to those I had brought
down, taking them out into the alley in the rear of the hotel. Scarcely had
the last one been taken out into the open air, when a horrible yell greeted
my ears. The voice was apparently that of a man, and the sound came from
the court. I rushed in there to see who it might be, and save him, if possi-
ble. But I could discover no one. While searching the court with my eyes
from the doorway, a spark of fire from aloft fell upon my neck, and gave me
a painful burn. Other cinders fell upon my cap, and burned that. The man
who shrieked in such an unearthly manner may have been at one of the
windows looking into the court. He may also have been upon the brick
pavement below, and unseen by me, but there can be no mistaking where
the sound of his voice came from. It fairly makes me shudder when I think
of it now. After this last effort at life-saving I beat a hasty retreat into the
open air, and not any too soon, as by this time the entire upper portion of
the building was a mass of flames.
STATEMENT OF THOMAS DELANEY, THE NIGHT CLERK.
On the morning of the fire I was in the office. Going back to 3 o'clock in
the morning, or about that time, two officers came in. One, I think, was
O'Brien. They stayed about five minutes. The next person who came in
was T. B. Elliott; that Avas after the Chamber clock had struck 3:30. He said
"Good morning, Tom," and I told the night watch to take Mr. Elliott to his
room. The next who came in was Conductor Howie, about five minutes
after. He left a small satchel on the settee at the top of the stairway. I
spoke to him and got a drink, then walked up the south stairway. That was
pretty near 4 o'clock. The next thing I heard was a step on the stairs, I
looked over the front stairs and saw smoke rising from below% near the stairs.
It was McKenzie I had heard, and he asked me where the smoke came from.
I said down stairs, and we 1 )oth rushed down, he a little ahead. We passed the
wine-room. AVho got to the Michigan street door first, I don't know, but when
it was opened the smoke rushed through the hall so densely that I was forced
back. I ran to give an alarm, which I did by the telephone. That, I knew,
was the quickest way to send in the alarm. That was, as near as I can say,
about 4 o'clock. It was five minutes to four when I first discovered the smoke.
I telephoned: "Send Fire Department to Newhall as quick as you can!"
They responded they would be there in a minute. I then set about seeing
how the firemen could best reach the blaze. I ran to the Broadway sidewalk
and already No. 1 hose cart was coming down. I looked into the house at
this juncture and saw^ fiames had burst from the elevator. I yelled, "Eight
this way, gentlemen !" Two firemen rushed in with Babcocks, but they saw
it was too late for them and hose was run in. I ran into the house and the
first ones I met were Mr. and Mrs. Wm. E. Cramer, in their night-clothes.
34 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
Two men came in then — officers or firemen — and requested me to let them
into the balcony. I did so, but the balcony door was not locked. By this
time one man had jumped on to the balcony. Mr. Antisdel called me back
to the office and asked for the key to the safe. I took it from the cash-
drawer and gave it to young John Antisdel, who was nude, and I gave him
one of Mr. Lee's coats. I took the valuables out of the safe, jumped out of
the office and handed Mr. Freeman's buffalo overcoat to Mrs. Cramer, who
asked me to go to their room and get them some clothes. I tried to do so,
but had to come back and tojd her I could not get to the room, and she said,
"Never mind." Parlor C struck me just then, where I knew was Tom
Thumb, Eunning there I found a iDoliceman, and I awoke everybody in
that neighborhood. I then ran up the north stairs and met Mr. Starr, with
Mr. Ludington in a chair. Then I ran down to the ladies' entrance and got
a couple of the policemen, who helped Mr. Ludington down. I then thought
of Mr. Paul, who w\as also on the Ludington floor. I met him hobbling
along, nude, and I got officers to help him down, which they did. I went up
again, the third and last time. The smoke was so strong and the gas
out that I could see nothing. I struck a match to light the gas, and it went
out. I tried to light a torch, but could not. The smoke was then so suf-
focating that I had to lie down. I went up all those times to get people out,
and had to crawl back to the office on my hands and knees the last time.
When I left the office the floor was falling in around the elevator. I gave
j^oung Antisdel two little boxes, but he did not take them out and I did.
About ten minutes elapsed between the time I found the fire and was forced
from the house. After I left the office I went out on Broadway. By that
time four stories w^ere all on fire. T stood around until I got cold, and then I
went home.
THE HEROES.
Against the dark background of despair and indecision which
marked that cruel morning, the names of those who, at the peril
of life and limb, labored faithfully to wrest their fellow-beings
from the grasp of the insatiate flames will stand inscribed in
letters of living light, never to fade while the memory of that fiery
drama shall linger in the heart of a single citizen.
First on the list of those who immortalized themselves by their
noble efforts in behalf of their fellows is David H. Martelle,
a gallant railroad conductor, who fate willed should immolate
himself on the dreadful altar of human sacrifice. When the
startling alarm resounded through the lower corridors of the hotel
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 35
Martelle was standing at the office counter chatting with tne
night clerk. He immediately bethought himself of his friend and
brother conductor, Robert Howie, who had retired only a short
time previous, to his room in the sixth story of the doomed struct-
ure. The faithful Martelle made all ha;te to warn his sleeping
friend of the impending danger, but whether he was permitted to
fulfill his design will never be known, as he and Howie were
carried down in the seething furnace. Their charred and mangled
remains were subsequently recovered from the ruins and laid to
rest forever by sorrowing friends.
The name of Kittie Xinehan, who had charge of the hotel
laundry, also occupies a lasting place in the history of the mem-
orable conflagration. After having aroused and directed a number
of dazed and frightened girls to places of safety, she returned to
continue her noble work, and was so beset by the devouring element
that escape was impossible, and she met her death by jumping
into the canvas held by rescuers in the street.
By reference to the statement of ^Villiam Linehan, who, by the
way, is a brother of the unfortunate young heroine just mentioned,
it will be observed that he proved himself a jewel of incalcu-
lable worth on that trying morning. By the exercise of undaunted
courage and remarkable presence of mind he succeeded in carrying
six persons to places of safety, and only desisted from his noble
duty when the infliction of painful burns on his person forced him
to beat a retreat from the building that had so long been his home.
Plis record during that brief season of excitement and terror stamps
him as one of God's noblest works.
But it was reserved for the firemen of Hook and Ladder Trucks
Nos. 1 and 2 to perform the most conspicuous and daring deeds of
bravery enacted on that dark and eventful morning. Shortly after
the arrival of the truckmen on the scene, and while they were
engaged in raising ladders on the Broadway and Michigan fronts of
the burning hotel, their attention was called to the fact that a large
numbei- of servant girls were imprisoned in the fifth story, with
all avenues of escape cut off. Attention was immediately turned
36 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
to the alley side, where a horrible scene was presented. The panic-
stricken girls, feeling themselves closely pressed by the smoke and
heat, and becoming imbued with the idea that no attempt was
being made to rescue them, had begun to make the horrible leap
to the earth below, and already ten or more of dead and dying lay
prone on the alley pavement. Foreman Curtin, of Truck No. 2,
shouted to the girls to remain where they w^ere and he would reach
them with a ladder. He then started back to fulfill his promise.
Foreman Riemer, of Truck No. 1, at this juncture conceived a
brilliant idea and ordered his men to the roof of what is known as
the Frackelton Building, and directed them to span the alley with
a ladder and thus reach the quarters of the imprisoned girls.
Herman F. Stauss was the first man to reach the roof of the
Frackelton Building, and with the assistance of George Wells, an
employe of the Goodyear Rubber Company, proceeded to execute
his foreman's orders. The fireman and his volunteer assistant
deftly handled the long, unwieldy ladder on their lofty perch, and
soon the spectators had the satisfaction of seeing one end of it crash
through a window in the servants' quarters of the hotel, thus
forming a bridge over which the frightened girls could escape. One
of them immediately appeared at the windo'w, and Fireman Stauss
crept over the improvised bridge and conducted her across in
safety. She was a heavy woman, and in her fright she moved
clumsily along the ladder. For a moment it seemed to the awe-
stricken assemblage as if both the rescuer and his charge would be
dashed to the earth; but Stauss proved equal to the emergency and
safely deposited his helpless burden on the roof of the East Water
street building amid the cheers of those who beheld the brave act.
It was this thrilling incident in the gallant work of rescue in the alley
that so deeply impressed the spectators as to move them to single
out Stauss for especial favor, although it was plain to all who wit-
nessed the affair that Stauss' companions performed equally
meritorious acts. Firemen Alfred A. Smith, John Borngesser,
and G. E. Nodine, of Truck No. % then crossed the frail bridge
and rescued three or four of the girls, whom they found in a semi-
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 37
unconscious state, and with difficulty aroused to a sense of their
dangerous situation.
Perceiving that the ladder bridge was performing such excellent
service, Charles Heyder and John Ryan, of Truck No. 1, and
Garrett Green, of Truck No. 2, succeeded in spanning the alley
with a second ladder, over which they crossed, and soon several
more of the trembling girls were landed in safety on the opposite
roof.
The brave firemen did not rest from their labor until all the
girls within their reach had been rescued, when they took up the
ladders and went to work on other parts of the burning building.
Foreman Curtin, of Truck No. 2, with the assistance of his men,
immediately removed the dead from the alley pavement, and while
cogitating on the advisability of attempting to save the extension
ladder, the rear wall of the building fell with a thundering crash,
filling the alley with a monstrous pile of brick and rubbish.
While the good work was progressing in the rear of the burning
structure, Oscar Kleinsteuber, one of the youngest members of
the police force, and who supervises the police alarm system,
ascended the fire-escape to the fourth floor on the Broadway side
and called to him no less than seven women and men, all of whom he
helped upon the escape so that they might descend to the street.
He desisted only when the smoke became so dense that his own
safety lay in the direction of the fire-escape.
There were many other heroes in the ranks of the Police and
Fire Departments, and also among the assembled citizens, whose
brave deeds in that brief hour of peril became lost in the vortex of
confusion and excitement, and will never be recorded. All honor
to those who participated in the noble work of life-saving in the
gloomy shadow of tottering walls. Their deeds, in the face of
frightful death, entitle them to more than human commendation.
38 BUR XING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE.
THE RUINS EXCAVATED,
On the da3^ following the fire the work of searching for the
remains of the lost in the ruins of the burned hotel Avas commenced
by a large force of men under direction of Capt. William P.
O'Connor, of the Board of Public Works. The progress of the
work was necessarily slow at first, owing to the heated condition of
the dehm and an accumulation of water in the pit; inclement
Aveather also militated against operations. NotAvithstanding these
ad\^erse circumstances Capt. O'Connor carried the work through
to a successful termination with surprising diligence. Forty-eight
charred and dismembered relics of humanity Avere exhumed and
sent to a room in the Miller Block, corner of Wisconsin street and
BroadAva}", which had been kindly tendered for that purpose by
Messrs. John M. and B. K. Miller. Of these fragments of bodies four
Avere identified as the remains respectively of David H. Martelle,
Robert HoAvie, Wm. C. Wiley and Mary Miller. These identifications
reduced the number of bodies to forty-four; and after the physicians
had made the official examination for the purpose of noting ana-
tomical peculiarities that might at some future time lead to identifi-
cation, a mattress upon Avhich was the blackened imprint of a human
form, and Avhich was at first supposed to contain the dust of a
victim, AA^as rejected, leaving the number of unidentified forty -three.
Horace M. Brown, M. D., and Arthur Holbrook and James S.
Perkins, Dentists, conducted the examination of the charred relics
and made a full report, AA^hich has been filed for preservation. Capt.
O'Connor says a deposit of pure white ash was found around each
body, generally Avhere the limbs would have been had they been
intact. This Avhite ash was an almost infallible indication of the
presence of a body. The workmen Avere taught this by experience,,
and always proceeded cautiously Avhen such ashes were reached.
In a number of cases, hoAve\^er, Avhite ashes were found Avithout any
visible remains of bodies, which leads to the belief that quite a
number of the unfortunate victims Avere totally incinerated. Hoav
manv aa411 neA^er be knoAvn.
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 39
While delving in the smoking mass of erumbled walls and
ashes, every article found by the workmen, however small, was
carefully preserved and sent to the Central Police Station. This
wise course enabled many of the friends and relatives of the
lost to obtain mementos of the lost ones whom death had so
cruelly snatched from them. The collection of exhumed relics
revealed many strange and wonderful freaks of the heat and
flames. Articles of wood and paper, cloth and other perishable
material passed through the crucible unscathed, while more sub-
stantial things were found burned and fused into inconceivable
shapes. A portion of Postmaster Payne's library was recovered in
fair condition, while directly under the pile of volumes the remains
of an unfortunate were found charred beyond recognition. Trunks
were removed intact, but with contents thoroughly blackened and
water-soaked. The contents of several baskets of champagne were
recovered in good order, but the wicker receptacles had crumbled
to ashes. About a dozen gold watches and a large number of rings
and other articles of jewelry were unearthed. Conspicuous among
the time-pieces was that of Judge Geo. Reed. It was sadly bat-
tered and minus half the case. On opening the remaining side the
following inscription was revealed : " To Geo. Reed, projector of
the Wisconsin Central Railroad, from his friends of Stevens Point,
Waupaca, Weyauwega and Wausau." Judge Reed's son claimed
the sad memento. The gold watches of Robert Howie and D.
H. Martelle were also recovered and delivered to their friends.
Amongst the jewelry recovered was a gold signet ring which bore
the inscription, " Katie to Will, Dec. 25, 1880." A box of valuable
papers belonging to AVm. E. Cramer, the veteran journalist, was
brought to light in satisfactory shape. Shortl}^ after the box was
found a policeman picked up a crumpled document which, on
examination, proved to be Mr. Cramer's will, that had become
separated from the other papers when the box was crushed.
Several Madonnas and crucifixes graced the miscellaneous col-
lection of relics. One of the former articles emerged from its fiery
baptism in a remarkable condition; although the frame was charred
40 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
to a cinder, the enameled jjicture remained fresh and untar-
nished. Tom Thumb's numismatic collection became widely scat-
tered, as was evidenced by the numerous quaint and ancient coins
that were taken from the ashes. Most of this class of articles
found their way into the pockets of citizens as relics of the fire.
All the safes belonging to the firms who occupied the first floor
Avere lifted out of the rubbish, and in every instance the contents
were found well preserved. Great interest was manifested when the
hotel safe was unearthed, as it was hoped it would contain the
register book with its valuable list of guests. But the eager group
which surrounded the grimy casket was doomed to disappointment,
for when the door swung open it was discovered that the precious
volume had not been saved.
NAMES OF THE LOST,
TAKEN TO THE MORQ UE ON THE MORNING OF THE FIRE.
Mrs. L. W. Brown.
Mrs. John E. Gilbert.
Mary Conroy.
Mary McMahon.
Mary McDade.
Mary Anderson.
Ottilie Waltersdorf.
Bessie Brown.
Maggie Sullivan.
Augusta Giese.
Bridget O'Connell,
Julia Fogerty.
Anna Hager.
Walter H. Scott.
Thos. E. Van Loon.
David G. Power.
TAKEN TO OTHER PLACES.
Kate Linehan. i Allen Johnson.
Mrs. Allen Johnson. I Judson J. Hough.
DIED OF THEIR INJURIES.
Julia F.GROESBECK,{known^as 1 Theo. B. Elliott.
Lizzie Anglin. I AVm. H. Hall.
TAKEN FROM THE RUINS AND IDENTIFIED.
Mary Miller. I Robert Howie.
David H. Martelle. 1 AVilliam C. AViley
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
41
LiBBiE A. Chellis.
Nora Flanagan.
Rosa Burns.
Annie McMahon.
Margaret Owens.
Mary Owens.
Lizzie Kelly,
Jane Dunn,
Ann Casey,
Augusta Trapp.
Kate Monahan.
Amelia Krause.
Maggie Finnegan.
*K ate Connors.
Mary Burke.
Martha Schlcessner.
J. Bradford Kellogg
Richard Goggin,
THE UNIDENTIFIED.
Q, C Brown.
Geo. G. Smith.
Judge Geo. Reed.
Capt. Jas. p. Yose.
L. K. fSMITH.
J. H. Foley,
Prof. B. Mason.
Geo, Lowry.
Just Haak,
W. E, Fulmer.
Emil Giesler.
Fred. Barker.
Walter Gillon.
AVilliam Gillon,
Daniel Moynahan.
Gust. Fredericks,
Ernst Schcenbucher.
C. Kelsey.
The foregoing list contains sixty -four names of unfortunates who
are known to have lost their lives by the fire. Coroner Kuepper
took official cognizance of twenty-eight identified bodies and forty-
three that could not be identified, a total of seventy-one, which leaves
seven whose names cannot be recalled. The list of unidentified
dead was made up from memory by Ben. K. Tice and John H.
Antisdel, chirks of the ill-fated hotel, and is the only record that
can ever be made of those who were cremated in the hot ruin. The
register of the hotel, priceless on an occasion like this, was over-
looked during the excitement and lost ; with it was erased all trace
of unfortunates who may have been totally incinerated.
The body of Kate Connors, whose name is marked with an
asterisk, was identified after the public funeral by her mother, who
recognized her daughter's gold ring among the valuables held by
the Coroner. Miss Connors' remains were buried with the uniden-
tified at Calvary Cemetery.
42 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
THE OBSEQUIES,
On Wednesday, January 23d^'ust two weeks from the day of
the fire — the remains of the unidentified victims were buried with
solemn ceremonies in Forest Home and Calvary Cemeteries. It
was at first proposed to inter them all at the former place, but in
comphance with the wishes of the friends of a number of the
unfortunates who belonged to the Roman Catholic Church, all the
bodies found under the place where the servant girls roomed,
together with those found with Catholic emblems and other evi-
dences of their faith, were given to the clergy of that church for
burial. Twenty of the bodies were in this manner designated as
Catholics, and twenty -three as Protestants.
Business was generally suspended during the day of the funeral,
and many stores and residences were profusely draped with the
sombre trappings of woe.
The sky was clear and bright, but the temperature of the atmos-
phere was almost too low for the personal comfort of those whom
duty called to escort the dead to their last resting place. Notwith-
standing this fact, however, the ranks of the various societies were
well filled. The citizens gathered in force at the Exposition Build-
ing and St. John's Cathedral, where the religious ceremonies were
performed, while the sidewalks along the avenues designated as the
line of march were thronged with spectators long before the solemn
cortege appeared.
At St. John's Cathedral, the congregation of which includes
a large number of the more immediate friends of the victims of the
disaster, the ceremonies were the most solemn and pathetic. Above
the main entrance, as well as over the smaller doors to the left and
the right of the sacred edifice, there was a simple arrangement of
black and white drapery. This was the only sign upon the exterior
of the building of the sad rites that were being performed within.
Inside, the funeral trappings were elaborate and profuse. The ves-
tibule was heavily hung with black and white strejuners. The stately
white fluted columns in the rear of the spacious interior were wound
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 43
about with black, and along the walls black and white festoons
reached from window to window. The large chandeliers and the
pulpit were heavily draped, and the chaste solemnity of the sanc-
tuary was heightened by heavy and elaborate trappings of black.
Extending from the steps of the sanctuary back to the vestibule —
a distance of sixty feet — was the bier, covered with black cloth, on
which rested the coffins, twenty in number, placed two by two,
with feet toward the altar. The relatives of the dead were nearly
all gathered in the front part of the church. Back of them, on both
sides of the center aisle, sat members of civic and military societies,
their draped banners forming a i3rominent feature of the scene.
Every inch of space in the vast building, except what was kept
clear by the exertions of the police, was occupied by mourners or
sympath^ic spectators. Solemn high mass of requiem was cele-
brated by Monsignor Eatz, V. G., assisted by Rev. Father Wein-
man and Father Lucas, the Palestrina Society, comprising a chorus
of about fifty voices, rendering the music. As the ineffably sad
strains of the requiem floated through the sacred building, a tremor
of emotion shook ever}^ member of the vast congregation. Women
in every part of the church burst into audible sobs, and among the
men there were few dry eyes. At the conclusion of the mass,
Archbishop Heiss performed the ceremony of absolution over the
remains, after which Father Matthew, of Racine, preached the
funeral sermon. He said:
My text for this mournful occasion will be Ecclesiastes, twelfth chapter,
seventh and eighth verses : " Then shall the dust return to the earth as it
was; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." '' Vanity of vani-
ties, saith the preacher; all is vanity."
Death is one of the circumstances attached to life. When we come into
this world we are born under the sentence of death. When it comes or
how it comes we know not. God only knows. The true philosophy of life
teaches us to prepare for that event. Religion tells us that the salvation of our
souls depends upon dying in unit}^ with God. I need not re-enact the terrible
scene of that dreadful morning. The curtain of night held its pall over the
habitation of man. Tired nature had sought refreshment and repose that
comes with slumber. We know not the bright visions that passed through
the minds of the unconscious slumberers. Some, no doubt, were living over
again in pleasing fancy the joyous days of childhood. Again they sat by
44 BURNING OF THE NEVVHALL HOUSE.
their own father's fireside, and talked of home and their childish pleasures.
Others, with pleasing anticipations, dreamt of pleasures yet to come. We
all have our expectations that the future will realize to us pleasures and
happiness. So may we suppose was the minds of those slumbering occu-
pants, on that dread morn, when the peal of alarm burst forth to call some to
judgment and others to the trying ordeal that awaited them. Imagination
cannot depict a scene more terrible, and it is hard for the mind of man to
describe it in its reality. In that leap for life death was imminent; behind
them the most unmerciful element of destruction. The scene was alarming,
tliough these terrified guests gave way not to despair. The preservation of
life is an ii)stinct of our nature. By jumping, death was probable; by
remaining, certain. How beautiful the teachings of our Christ. In
that last trying ordeal, faith sustained them, and hope animated them to
offer their lives to their God. All human aid appeared to be unavailing.
Kind hearts outside sympathized with them, but God alone could assist
them. On their knees, they supplicated Heaven's mercy, and in union thej''
drew together before the cross of Christ; in that alone did they look for aid
and mercy. "I am the resurrection and the life," says St. John in the
Apocalypse; "he that believeth in me shall have everlasting life." Animated
with this idea they threw themselves on the merc}^ of God, and in the words
of Scripture, said : " Into Thy hands, oh Lord, I commend my spirit." It
appears that the ear of God was not closed to the petition for aid. It
came from a most unexpected source. A brave fireman, strengthened by
the spirit of God, risked his own life, and in a manner familiar to you all,
resctied a number of precious souls. These, whose bodies lie in the chancel,
their lives, their faith and their trust in God might well justify us in saying:
"Oh! Grave, where is thy victory? Oh ! Death, where is thy sting?"
They died as they had lived, true children of their church and faithful fol-
lowers of the Lamb. In life they hoped, in death they were not disappointed.
We can well say that this appeal from fervent hearts was addressed to the
throne of God: " Have mercy on me, oh Lord, according to thy great mercy."
The decrees of God were verified. St. Paul says to the Hebrews : " It is
decreed for all men once to die." They have paid that penalty and in
resignation submitted to that decree. They have left their bodies to us,
which we this day are about to consign to the tomb. Their souls have
returned to the God from whence they came. Their examples and
their lives are still in the memory of those who knew them and cherished
most by those who knew them best. Though gone, yet to us they
shall not be forgotten. The teaching of our church bids us to hold
their memory in grateful remembrance, so that every kind thought may
be a new prayer, asking for Heaven's mercy. This beautiful feature of
our religion bids us pray for the eternal repose of their souls. The dis-
figured remains, though not recognizable to the eyes of mortals, yet are
known to the ever-searching eye of God. That terrible day w'ill long be
fresh in the minds of the people of this community, and their memory shall
BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 45
not be forgotten by the church. So let us take vvarnhig by the fate of those
who have gone before us; be you also ready, for you know not when God
may caU on ^''ou. Let us return to our homes from this saddening scene with
humbled hearts and humihated S})irits. As we thus honor their memories,
let us pray that God will have mercy on their souls.
The pall-bearers then removed the remains to the funeral cars.
As the bearers filed slowly out of the church with their burdens
the band outside played a dirge, and the deep-toned bell in the
steeple tolled a mournful accompaniment.
An immense crowd of people attended the general funeral at the
Exposition building. The ground floor w^as literally packed, and a
multitude of feces looked from the galleries on the twenty -three
coffins exhibited on the draped platform w'hich had been erected
over the fountain basin. The speaker's platform in the south end
of the building w-as covered with white cloth, over which streamers
of black caml:)ric were taste full}^ arranged. The organ was also
heavily draped, and from rosettes long cordons of twisted black
and white bunting hung from the balcony. The platforms were
arranged in two terraces, the upper one for the choir, which con-
sisted of the Musical and Arion Societies, and the lower one for the
clergy, the Boards of Supervisors and Aldermen, and a guard of
police, all of whom wore rosettes of crape on their breasts. Elab-
orate floral tributes from a number of citizens occupied appro-
priate positions on the circular bier. The principal piece was a
large floral cross composed of roses, immortelles and other fine
flowers, intermingled with smilax and pampas grass. It was
donated by" the East Side Market Association. Surmounting the
cross was a five-pointed star of clustered white immortelles, bordered
wdth smilax. The employes of the Telephone Exchange sent a
handsome harp of choice flowers. The pedestal was composed of
fine flowers nestling in a cushion of smilax, and a great number of
roses and rosebuds formed the harp. The strings of the instrument
were immortelles, and large calla-lilies were placed at the extremi-
ties and along the edge of smilax. Two wreaths, from Fred
Vogel, Sr., rested on the lids of the coffins. Pink and white roses,
violets, forget-me-nots, honeysuckle and green leaves woven together,
46 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
formed the wreaths. A lyre from Mesdames Frank Whitiiall and
Frank R. Ellis was among the decorations. This was a very large
and most beautiful piece of work. The groundwork was of differ-
ent kinds of mosses, on which were tea-roses, handsome calla-lilies
and choice variegated flowers. Arising from the bed of flowers at
the pedestal was a branch of palm, through the fine leaves of
which the strings of the lyre were visible. Around the gallery
at the south end of the building were dra^jings of mourning,
and the speakers' platform was covered with loops and festoons of
black cambric resting in relief against a wide strip of white cloth.
Two other crosses, fully three feet in height, which were sent by
the Board of Aldermen, were handsomely designed. Exquisite
flowers, green vines and pampas grass were wrought into the design,
and in letters inscribed in delicate white flowers were the words,
"At Rest." On coffin No. 1, which is supposed to contain the
remains of Miss Chellis, was a large floral cross. It was donated by
Mrs. T. A. Chapman, and was composed of camelias and lilies, into
which was interwoven the sentence, "In God We Rest." The cere-
monies were opened by Rev. A. F. Mason, who repeated the Lord's
Prayer, thousands of voices in the vast assemblage joining in the
invocation. Rev. J. E. Gilbert read one of the Psalms of David,
and the joint choir of the Arion and Musical Societies sang " Over
All the Tree-tops," with great effect. The singing was followed by a
prayer, delivered by Rev. A. A. Kiehle, after which the organ
pealed out the strains of the choral from Bach's cantata, "A Strong-
hold Sure," and the vast congregation afterwards joined in singing
"Old Hundred." Rev. J. N. Freeman then delivered the following
funeral address :
The time allotted to this service requires that my words should be few.
And this is well; for who, in such a sermon as this, can give adequate
utterance to his own surging thoughts, much less voice the feelings of this
multitude? We are witnessing and sharing in the last public act of the
awful tragedy which, a fortnight ago, burst with sudden and pitiless fury
upon our beloved city — a tragedy which caused bitter tears which no human
sympathy can wipe away, and wrought a desolation which no human means
or skill can rebuild; a tragedy whose shadows seem to deepen as the days
pass. This group of nameless caskets gives silent but pathetic witness to our
BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 47
utter impotence to grapple with the mystery, and to make up the loss which
is most real. The familiar block, now a ghastly ruin, may be restored to
more than its original beauty and service; but who can build again the
shattered hopes and plans, or restore to bereaved kindred and friends out of
these poor fragments the forms which were once goodly to look upon and
dearly loved? This is no place to pronounce eulogies upon the dead,
however deserving; nor to merely oflfer condolence to the sorrowing, how-
ever sorely needed. Rather is it ours in humility and reverence to give
worthy Christian burial to these pitiful remains, in the name of thousands
whose grief is the heavier because they are denied even the poor consolation
of recognizing and giving private sepulture to their beloved. AVell may this
stricken city claim as hers, and pay due honors to those who once added
their share to her wealth and worth ! Well may the place where their
bodies shall find their last resting place be ever sacred to us and our
children ! But, when these memorial services and this solemn pageant are
over, when our life in home and city struggles back to its wonted channels,
has our whole duty been done? Is there no more which humanity, grati-
tude and religion call upon us to accomplish in memory of the dead and in
behalf of the living? Surely, friends, there are deeper lessons, if we will
receive them; nobler tasks, if we will consent to perform them. It is said:
''When the German ocean has been moved by a great storm, it begins to
toss out amber upon the beach, and the jewel-makers rush down to the new
sand. So, whenever the human ocean has been well moved it begins to
throw forth things of value to those walking on the mortal shore." What
thoughtful mind can doubt that these sudden and mighty agitations should
arouse us to higher ideals and nobler methods of life? Who can doubt that
the angel of terror and of death, the shadow of whose wings have been dark
as night, may yet prove a " ministering spirit," leading us on to brighter
because better days? If we will, out of these troubled waters shall come
truer, richer health to human society; from this fiery trial character shall
come forth purged of its dross. Among the throng of thoughts which are
excited by this great calamity, there are three which I would especially
emphasize. One is, the inestimable value of a single human life. Mortal thouCTli
we are, we are not like the beasts that perish. Made in the image of God
we are charged with an immortal destiny. Whoever cuts short this life
whether his own or another's, whether by malicious intent or by thoughtless
neglect, will not be held guiltless by God, and should not be by men. We
must check the fearful prodigality with which so many waste their own life
and imperil the lives of others. Again, let us more fully recognize the
relations that bind us together in human brotherhood. We are not, cannot be
independent of each other. However separated by the barriers of nationality,
station, possessions, employments, creeds, we are one in the sorrows that
afflict us and the death that awaits us. The things of which we so often
boast are but the accidents,not the essentials of life. AVhy then should we suffer
ourselves to be ever i)roud, contemptuous, exclusive ? That humanitv is the
48 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
richest, the most Uke God's ideal, which takes as its motto and rule of life,
*' Each for all and all for each." Lifted by this sudden calamity and sorrow
to recognize this fact in splendid deeds of heroism and generous sympathy
and help, why should we ever lose sight of the high ideal ? Once more, let
us not forget that there is a kindness which comes too late. Flowers upon
the casket of the dead may bear pathetic witness to love, but how much
better if we should strew more flowers along the dreary pathway of the
living ! Solemn hymns and chants are appropriate to a burial service; but
€an we not, if we will, put more music into the hearts and homes that are
all too dolorous ? Eulogies over the departed maybe sometimes helpful;
but a few hearty words of cheer and praise to our fellow-pilgrims, ere they
leave us, are worth infinitely more. Let us then resolve, even beside these
caskets of the dead, that we will think more, plan more, do more for those
who are still with us. Then shall this sorrow, grievous as it is, bring a
blessing that shall be eternal.
At the conclusion of the address Beethoven's funeral march,
^' Eroica Symphony," was rendered by Prof. Garratt on the organ.
Rabbi I. S. Moses then advanced to the front of the platform and
addressed the assemblage in the German language. It was arranged
that Rev. A. A. Hoskin should speak immediately after Rabbi Moses,
but at the conclusion of the latter's remarks a panic was caused by
the escape of steam from a broken pipe in the Avest wing of the
building, and the audience left in rather an informal manner, thus
bringing the exercises to an abrupt close.
About 12 o'clock the two divisions of the funeral cortege united
on the upper end of Broadway, and started on the solemn march
through the city toward the cemeteries in the following order:
FIRST DIVISION.
Marshal Bean and Staff.
Light Horse Squadron.
Bach's Band.
Lincoln Guards.
South Side Turner Rifles.
Grand Army of the Eepublic.
Milwaukee Turnverein.
Scandinavian Benevolent Society.
Druids.
Delegates from Eintracht Society.
Carriages Containing Clergy.
Three Carriages Containing Policemen.
BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 49
Hearses.
Citizens' Committee.
The Mayor.
Municipal Organizations.
Citizens in Carriages.
SECOND DIVISION.
Under Command of Assistant Marshal Thomas Shea.
Clauder's Band.
Sheridan Guards.
Kosciusko Guards.
Knights of St. George.
Knights of St. Patrick.
Order of St. Bonaventura.
St. John's Married Men's Sodality.
St. Bonifacius Society.
Ancient Order of Hibernians.
Hibernian Benevolent Society.
St. Gall's Young Men's Sodahty.
St. Pius' Society.
St. Peter's Society.
Band.
St. Joseph's Society.
St. Bernard's Society.
St. George's Society.
St. Stanislaus' Society.
Kunkel's Band.
St. Anthony's Society.
St. John's Young Men's Sodality.
Heart of Jesus Society.
Carriages Containing Catholic Clergy.
Hearses.
Delegation of St. George's Society as Pall-bearers.
Carriages Containing Citizens and Delegations from Societies.
As the cortege moved with measured steps through the lanes
formed by the living mass on both sides, the silence was unbroken
save by the melancholy strains of the dirge and the regular tolling
ot the various church bells. The catafalques on which the forty -
three coffins rested in full view of the spectators were the center of
interest all along the route. They were seven in number and con-
sisted of platforms built on sleighs, the whole being covered with
black cloth, and appropriately trimmed with rosettes and festoons
4
50 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
of black. On National avenue, near Sixth avenue, the military and
civic societies formed two lines and came to a halt, facing inward.
The catafalques were slowly drawn between the lines, and as they
passed, the escort reverently bowed their heads. The procession
dispersed at this point and the societies returned to their respective
armories and halls. The pall-bearers, the clergy and the friends
and relatives of the dead accompanied the remains to Forest Home
and Calvary Cemeteries, where the last funeral rites were performed.
At Forest Home Cemetery a simple burial service was held, after
which the coffins were lowered into the ground. The number of
each coffin was called off as it w^as lowered, as follows : 1, 4, 6, 7,
8, 9, 10, 11, 12,, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 20, 23, 24, 26, 28, 29,30, 40 and 44.
At Calvary Cemetery Archbishop Heiss conducted the ceremonies
in accordance with the Catholic faith. The coffins were numbered
27, 32, 36, 37, 45, 22, 48, 33, 31, 39, 25, 47, 42, 46, 38, 21, 19, 34, 35
and 41.
^*»n Qfrtcmoru
of the :3^ca&.
1
^
Mrs. L. W. Brown,
Martba Scbloessner,
Mrs. John E. Gilbert,
Mrs. Allen Johnson,
Mary Conroy,
Allen Jobnson,
Mary McMahon,
Walter H. Scott,
Mary McDade,
Tbos. E. Van Loon,
Mary Anderson,
David G. Power,
Ottilie Waltersdorf,
Judson J. Hougb,
Bessie Brown,
Tbeo. B. Elliott,
Maggie Sullivan,
Wm. H. Hall,
Augusta Giese,
David H. Martelle,
Bridget O'Connell,
Robert Howie,
Julia Fogerty,
William C. Wiley,
Anna Eager,
J. Bradford Kellogg,
Kate Lineban,
Richard Goggin,
Julia F. Groesbeck,
Q. C. Brown,
Lizzie Anglin,
Geo. G. Smith,
Mary Miller,
Judge Geo. Reed,
Libbie A. Cliellis,
Capt. Jas. P. Vose,
Nora Flanagan,
L. K. Smith,
Rosa Burns,
J H. Foley,
Annie McMahon,
Prof. B. Mason,
Margaret Owens,
Geo. Lowry,
Mary Owens,
Just Haak,
Lizzie Kelly,
W. E. Fulmer,
Jane Dunn,
Emil Giesler, ■
Ann Casey,
Fred Barker,
Augusta Trapp,
Walter Gillon,
Kate Monaban,
William Gillon,
Amelia Krause,
Daniel Moynaban,
Maggie Finnegan,
Gust Fredericks,
Kate Connors,
Erast Schccnbucber,
Mary Burke,
C. Kelsey,
And otbers unknown.
1
^herj Best in (pod.
52^ BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE.
HONORING THE HEROES,
On the afternoon of Friday, January 19, the hall of the Cham-
ber of Commerce building was filled to overflowing with spectators
who had been drawn thither to witness a jDublic demonstration in
honor of the brave men whose valorous deeds on the morning of
the fire entitle them to lasting remembrance. Delegations from the
Police and Fire Departments occupied conspicuous positions on the
floor of the hall, while their respective chiefs, Wason and Lippert,
together with President Feeeman of the Chamber of Commerce,
President BAUMGiERTNER of the Common Council, Chairman Weiss
of the Board of Supervisors, and Gen. H. C. Hobart were seated
upon the platform. Herman F. Stauss and George E. Wells —
the heroes selected for especial commendation — and Stauss' newly-
made wife, his mother and brother, also had jDositions on the plat-
form, and were for the time the center of attraction.
At precisely three o'clock President Freeman stilled the audience
by a blow of the gavel, and directed Secretary Langson to read the
resolutions which had been ado^^ted by the Chamber of Commerce,
expressing to the brave members of the Fire and Police Depart-
ments their appreciation of the heroism at the Newhall House fire,
where many risked their lives that others might be saved, and set-
ting forth that, as Herman F. Stauss had exhibited conspicuous
bravery on the occasion, the Chamber of Commerce desired to pre-
sent him with a slight testimonial. Gen. Hobart, the orator of
the day, then stepped forward and spoke as follows:
On the morning of the tenth of this month, when the people of Mihvaukee
looked out from their windows upon the heavens, lit up by the lurid flames
of the burning Newhall, they little thought that a hundred human beings
were struggling and perishing in that fire. They little dreamed of the terror
and agony of those imprisoned by the flames, or the fearful danger of those
attempting to escape. Never did a fire-bell in the night presage a calamity
more appalling— hardly in the history of the world, and never before in the
record of this beautiful city. Morning never broke over tlie lake upon a
scene so terrible, and God grant that it may never again. The first signal
found a part of the Fire Department engaged in a distant part of the city,
and but two-thirds of the force were able to respond promptly to the alarm.
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 53
The fire spread with such fearful rapidity that it was not in the power of
man to save the building, and it is a marvel that tlie skill and bravery of the
firemen were able to confine that sea of flame within the blackened walls of
the hotel. The valuable buildings and the wealth of merchandise now in
the block of that ill-fated house are indebted for their preservation to the
well-directed and fearless work of the Fire Department. The Police were
equally prompt in responding to the first call, and they braved every danger
in the discharge of their duty. There were heroes who deserve immortal
honor : Louis Schroeder, with great exposure, carried a lady from the third
story. Edward Riemer, A. A. Smith and members of Truck ('o No. 1, res-
cued seven persons from the Broadway front. Officer INIathews brought out
Mr. and Mrs. Cramer. Ofticer Sullivan saved Mr. Hall. Officer O'Brien
awoke and assisted Tom Thumb and his wife to escape. O'Brien and Miles
rescued a lady from the balcony on Michigan street. MclNIanus and Janssen
lowered Elliott and sent him to a carriage, and then carried out Jamt^s Lud-
ington. Lieut. Rockwood rescued a lady from the flames on the third floor,
and saved another as she dropped from a window. Rockwood, Riemer and
McManus, with the aid of a ladder, assisted three to escape from the bal-
cony. Oscar Kleinsteuber, with intrepid courage, ascended the escape
on Broadw^ay to the fourth story, and, with a lantern in his hand, fear-
lessly entered the building, and with heroic daring piloted seven persons to
the escape, who descended in safety. Borngesser, Ryan, Smith and Heyder,
with great peril, entered the burning house and revscued five girls, Avitli the
assistance of Green, Riemer and Nodine. I shall now speak of the hero
Herman F. Stauss, and his brave companion, George AVells. Several girls
were seen in the sixth story windows over the alley imploring for help.
Stauss was directed by his chief to take a ladder and go to their assistance.
With an eighteen-foot ladder, he and Wells entered the Frackelton building
and forced their way to the top of the block. Emerging upon the roof, the
brave girls received them with ringing cheers. Poising their ladder within
a foot of the edge of the building, it fell into the window opposite only a few
inches. They called to the girls to come out and prostrate themselves and
move forward by the aid of their hands. WeUs held the ladder and Stauss
reached forward and guided them across. In this manner five girls passed
over to the opposite roof. Hearing cries from the same place, Stauss threw
ofl" his coat and hat and crossed over into the room where the smoke was
pouring out of the window, and ]the panels of the door were on fire. He
found one girl lying upon the floor nearly insensible. Lifting her up he
placed her upon the ladder. She grasped the sides with her hands and
refused to move. Stauss stepped from the window on to the ladder, and
with a nerve and heroism unparalleled, passed over the prostrate girl, then
turning and kneeling down, he broke away her clenched hands, and with
superhuman strength raised her with his arm, and almost in mid air, over a
yawning gulf of more than sixty feet, bore her across this frail bridge in
triumph to a place of safety.
54 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
Gen. Hobart then paused, and as he beckoned Stauss to step
to the front, said: "Allow me to introduce the heroic Herman F.
Stauss, the subject of my only too inadequate words, who risked
his life again and again for those poor girls." Here ensued a per-
fect ovation, and the chamber rang with repeated outbursts of thun-
derous applause. Stauss modestly bowed to the admiring crowd,
while his happy wife and mother were visibly affected. After the
introduction a momentary pause ensued, and Gen. Hobart then
handed Stauss a handsome gold watch, chain and ladder charm,
saying: "Herman F. Stauss, I now have the honor to present to
you, in behalf of the Chamber of Commerce of the city of Mil-
waukee, this watch, chain and charm, as a slight token of apprecia-
tion for your heroic actions on the morning of the ever-memorable
January 10th." Stauss took the gift, placed it in his vest-pocket
and bowed himself off the stage, amidst resounding cheers, after
saying: "Gentlemen, I thank you for the great honor you have
conferred upon me."
In response to repeated calls for George Wells, that brave
young gentleman stepped forth and was introduced. He was
greeted rapturously. Gen. Hobart then called for Oscar Klein-
STEUBER, whom he said deserved far more recognition than had yet
been bestowed on him, but inquiry developed the fact that Klein-
STEUBER was not present. The assemblage was then dismissed.
Before retiring the crowd gathered around Stauss and Wells,
and the heroes had to submit to a brief season of vigorous hand-
shaking.
The watch which was presented to Stauss is of Waltham make,
with a heavy hunting-case of 18-carat gold. Engraved upon the
inner lid covering the works, is the inscription: "Presented to
Herman Stauss, by the Chamber of Commerce, Milwaukee, for
conspicuous bravery in rescuing human lives at the Newhall House
fire, January 10, 1883." The chain, also 18-carat gold, is simple in
design and very heavy. Attached to it is a gold charm represent-
ing the hooks and ladder typical of the fireman's calling.
Another pleasant episode, the result of a rescue at the fire, took
BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE. 55
place on the evening of the 23d, when Capt. M. H. Collins was the
surprised recipient of a magnificent gold watch and chain from
James Ludington. The latter was one of the regular guests at the
house, and owes his life to the prompt action of Captain Collins in
rushing to his relief through the smoky corridors. Mr. Ludington
and the Captain have long been intimate friends, and the latter's
first thought, on reaching the scene of the fire, was of Mr. Luding-
ton's imminent danger. The watch is a heavy gold hunting-case,
of Elgin make, appropriately engraved with the date of the confla-
gration and the names of the donor and recipient. The chain is of
gold, of unique design.
On the 1st of February, Geo. E. Wells, who so gallantly assisted
Fireman Stauss in the work of rescuing the poor servant girls, was
presented with a handsome gold watch as a recognition of his
bravery. On one of the cases of the watch is an engraving repre-
senting the hotel before the fire, and on the other the inscription:
" To George E. Wells, for his bravery during the Newhall House
fire, January 10, 1883." A heavy gold chain and an onyx charm
are attached. The money with which the gift was purchased was
contributed by various business men of the city. The ladies of
Grand Avenue M. E. Church, as a further token of their apprecia-
tion of his efforts in saving life, presented him with a beautiful set
of " The People's Cyclopoedia," two large, superbly bound volumes,
and a purse of money. The publishers, Messrs. Jones Bros. & Co.,
Chicago, on learning the destiny of the books, donated, unasked,
nearly half the price, and added " The Life of Gen. Garfield," illus-
trated, paying the charges on the whole.
HISTORY OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE,
The Newhall House was built by Daniel Newhall and others
in 1857, and was opened to the public with a grand banquet on the
26th of August of that year. The building, which was of Milwaukee
brick, occupied a frontage of 180 feet on Broadway and 120 feet
56 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
on Michigan street. It was six stories high, contained three
hundred rooms, and at the time of its construction was considered
the largest and finest hotel in the West. The cost of the building
was $155,000, the lot on which it was erected was valued at $50,000,
and the first lessees furnished it at a cost of $70,000. The house,
finished and furnished, therefore rejDresented an investment of
$275,000. The structure was originally surmounted by a shapely
wooden cupola, as is represented in the illustration on the title page
of this book, but shortly after the Chicago fire this was removed in
order to reduce the fire risk. On the 14th of February, 1863, the
hotel had a narrow escape from destruction by fire. The blaze
originated in a room occupied by a newly-married couple, and before
it was extinguished about nine apartments were burned out. In
August, 1865, Daniel Wells, Jr., S. S. Sherman and C. D. Nash
bought the property. In 1866 the rooms in the upper part of the
stone bank building, on the corner of East Water and Michigan
streets, were fitted up for hotel purposes, and the two buildings were
connected by a covered passage of wood, which bridged the alley
on a level with the third floor of the Newhall House. At the same
time, or probably a little later, with a view to facilitating escape
in case of fire, the fourth, fifth and sixth floors of the hotel were
connected with the bank building. The passage from the fifth
floor of the hotel was nearly on a level with the bank roof, and con-
sisted of a bridge with a hand-rail on each side. A short ladder
connected this bridge with the sixth stor3^ In May, 1869, Messrs.
Wells, Sherman and Nash leased the hotel to John Plankinton for
a term of years, giving him the privilege of closing it if he deemed
best. The public objected to having the house closed and sought a
purchaser for the property. Finally S. N. Small became the owner
of the hotel, several prominent citizens advancing him $100,000,
taking 100 bonds of $1,000 each as security. The public-spirited
;Mr. Plankinton kindly relinquished his lease in the interest of
the movement. In November, 1873, Mr. Small having defaulted
in the payment of the interest on the bonds, the bondholders
arranged with him for the conveyance of the property to
BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 57
them. Soon thereafter the Newhall House Stock Company was
formed and the bondholders became stockholders in the asso-
ciation, C. D. Nash being the president and managing officer. In
1874 the Broadway water-main was connected with standpipes on
the north and south end of the building, extending to the sixth
floor. Fire-plugs and hose were attached to these standpipes on
every floor. In 1874 the elevator was put in. The building was
provided with two fire escapes, one on the north end of the Broad-
way front, and the other near the corner on the Michigan street
side, the corridors of the hotel extending to each. On the morning
of January 9, 1880, the structure had another close call. A spark
from the cooking range ignited a wooden ventilating shaft, and four
apartments on the third and fourth floors, on the north end of the
building, were destroyed. Instead of replacing the burned rooms,
which had always been considered dangerous, an open court was
substituted for them, reaching down to the office floor, where there
was a skylight. The court was enclosed by brick walls on its east,
north and west sides, and by an iron-sheathed wall on the south.
The corridor running east and Avest on the north side of the sixth
floor was also provided with a door as a means of exit to the roof of
the rear part of the building, which was only five stories in height.
The history of the Newhall House covers a period of over a
quarter of a century. During that time it was managed by the fol-
lowing named firms and individuals, in their order, as near as can
be ascertained : Kean & Rice, Rice & Andrews, A. Kingsbury & Son,
Kingsbury & Johnson, Bentley & Son, Groff' & Hamlin, Charles
Andrews, Lansing Bonnell and John F. Antisdel. The hotel was
never a paying field for landlords. Many of those who attempted
its management met with heav}^ loss. The Bentleys, who had made
a success of the Walker (now Kirby) House, lost $16,000 in one year
in the Newhall. John F. Antisdel, the lessee of the hotel at the
time of the fire, had the common losing experience. He assumed
the management in May, 1874, and from that time until the fatal
10th of January, 1883, fought hard, but unsuccessfully, against the
financial difficulties which seemed always to beset the house.
t
58 BUKNFNG OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
PECUNIARY LOSS,
The following is a statement of the pecuniary loss by the great
conflagration:
Underwriters' value of the hotel, - |140,000
Estimated value of furniture, - - 26,400
166,400
Insurance on building, - - . . $78,500
" furniture, - - - 23,800
102,300
Actual loss, - $64,100
The ground floor of the building was occupied by Geo. Scheller,
hotel* bar-room; Manufacturers' Bank; C. F. Hibbard & Co., and C.
H. Ross, insurance and freight agents; L. A. Wheeler and C. E.
Grain, insurance agents; W. T. Durand, insurance agent; F. W.
Montgomery k. Co., insurance agents; Merchants' Dispatch Freight
office; West & Myers, insurance agents; Blue Line freight office;
and Benj. M. Weil, real estate agent. The })asement was occupied
by the Mutual Union and District Telegraph offices; Grand Trunk
freight office; A. H. BaumgaBrtner, painter; A. W. Goetz, barber;
and Burdick & Armitage, job printers. Of these occupants the
last named were the heaviest losers. Their presses and material
were valued at $10,000, upon which there w^as an insurance of
$8,500. The losses of the other occupants were mainly in office
furniture and books and commercial documents of small intrinsic
value. The stock of the hotel bar-room, kept by Geo. Scheller,
was well insured. To these losses by business establishments in
the basement and first floor of the building should be added the
loss suffered by guests and servants in the destruction of cloth-
ing, jewelry and other personal effects. In several instances
these losses reached a considerable sum. Mr. and Mrs. AA^m. E.
Cramer lost valuable diamonds and a store-room full of choice
books and articles of mrlu collected during their foreign travels.
Henry C. Payne, postmaster, lost a valuable library and other
goods which he had stored in the building. The total amount
of these personal losses cannot be computed, but it certainly
reached a large figure.
BURNING OF THE NEIVHALL HOUSE. 59
THE INQUEST.
The inquest on the dead was begun on the 23d of January, in
the juiy-rooni of the Municipal Court, City Hall, before the
following jurors: Robert Davies, builder; J. B. Thompson, con-
tractor; Daniel Waite, clergyman; T. J. Franey, railroad employe;
J. C. Corrigan, merchant; John O'Connell, contractor. John M.
Clark, District Attorney, conducted the examination of witnesses.
The inquiry continued until the afternoon of February ], when
the District Attorney charged the jury and they retired. The
sifting process and argument on the testimony educed at the exam-
ination occupied the attention of the jury, at daily sittings, until
February 5th, when a verdict containing the following findings
was rendered:
That the Newhall House was set on fire by a person or persons unknown;
that only one night watchman was employed in the hotel, and that he, hav-
ing other duties to perform, was unable to attend to his proper duties, which
should have received the attention of two or three men; that the night
watchman and night clerk, obeying previous instructions of the proprietors,
lost valuable time in useless attempts to extinguish the fire, and neglected to
arouse the inmates, and that when they did attempt to arouse those in the
hotel the corridors were so filled with stifling smoke that the employes were
obliged to seek their own safety; that the proprietors were guilty of culpable
negligence in not havino; employed a suHicient number of watchmen to
guard the house against fire and awake the inmates in time to save all the
lives possible; that, notwithstanding the facts that the Newhall House was
easy of egress and devoid of intricate passages, that it had outside escape
ladders on the northeast and southeast corners, and a bridge near the south-
west corner leading across the alley to the opposite building, an inside ser-
vants' stairway from the fifth story to the basement, and two large open
stairways in the front corridors leading from the ofi^ice floor to the sixth
story, with an open ladder to the roof, the owners of the Newhall House,
knowing that many fires had taken place at various times in the hotel, are
guilty of culpable negligence in not having provided more outside escapes in
case of fire; that the Fire Department did their duty as well as could be
expected, but could have done much more had the ladder trucks been fully
manned and equipped with the best extension ladders and the men well
drilled to handle them; and that the telegraph poles and wires caused
serious obstruction to the Fire Department by preventing them from using
their ladders in a speedy and etficient manner at the time they were so
much needed.
60 BURNING OF THE NEWHALL HOUSE.
THE MEN WHO FOUGHT THE FIRE,
Chie.j Engineer— Yiws.vci Lippert.
Assistant Engineer — John T. Black.
Superintendent Fire Alarm Telegraph — Geo. Glassner.
Lineman— L. Schroeder.
Veterinary Surgeon — Dr. John Senti.
Chemical Engine No. 1. — Foreman, Nich. Theisen; pipemen, H. Fitzlaff
and A. G. Maas; driver, Fred Noelk.
Hook and Ladder No. 1. — Foreman, Edward Eiemer; truckmen, H. F.
Stauss, C. Heyder, L. Gillmeister, John Ryan; driver, F. Schuppner.
Hook and Ladder No. 2, — Foreman, Michael J. Ciirtin; truckmen, J.
Borngesser, A. A. Smith, G. J. Green, G. E. Nodine; driver, C. Schunck.
Hook and Ladder No. 3. — Foreman, Jacob Kopf ; truckmen, F. Gros-
kopf, S. Brand, W. Moschgau, J. Stoltz; driver, L. Linberger.
Supply Hose No. 1. — Pipemen, F. Schmidt, F. Thiele, A. Braun; driver,
J. T. Owens.
Supply Hose No. 2. — Pipemen, B. Van Haag, H. Weidner, Wm. Schnei-
der; driver, J. Spurney.
Steam Engine No. 1. — Foreman, H. Meminger; pipemen, Geo. AVolf, W.
Henley, M. Galley; engineer, M. Burns; stoker, C. T. Heineman; engine
driver, J. O'Donnell; hose cart driver, C. Blackwood; watchman, J. Behles.
Steam Engine No. 2. — Foreman, M. Knntz; pipemen, H. Bloss, M. Besel,
W. Fisted; engineer, J. Reiter; stoker, J. Kneisl; engine driver, A. Guenther;
hose cart driver, H. Hserter; watchman, J. Miller.
Steam Engine No. 3. — Foreman, H. Kasten; pipemen, A. Schmid, J.
Nork, H. Mangold; engineer. Ph. Meisenheimer; stoker, J. Gutenkunst;
engine driver, H. Stoll; hose cart driver, C. Hildebrand; watchman, L.
Schram.
Steam Engine No. 4. — Foreman, Patrick Sullivan; pipemen, C. McCor-
mick, P. Sennott, S. McDowell; engineer, P. W. Spencer; stoker, C. E.
Derken; engine driver, John Mehan; hose cart driver, P. J. Duffy; watch-
man, S. Simms.
Steam Engine No. 5. — Foreman, J. Ihmig; pipemen, H. Lecher, A. Kuntz,
C. Henck; engineer, C. Dusold; stoker, X. Schoenbucher; engine driver, J.
Dittman; hose cart driver, Geo. Schwarz; watchman, J. Schardt.
Steam Engine No. 6.— Foreman, John McLaughlin ; pipemen, J. Schroeder,
J. Weiher, A. J. Stauss; engineer, D. S. Dunn; stoker, T. Kelly; engine
driver, Jno. Klees; hcse cart driver, Thos. Gary; watchman, John Gary.
Steam Engine No. 7.— Foreman, T. G. Scott; pipemen, P. Webber, F.
Kleinschinidt, B. VVizinski; engineer, T. Gobel; stoker, F. Simmerling;
engine driver, J. Dworak; hose cart driver, F. Heuer; watchman, A.
Hauesler.
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